Nahdlatul Ulama, Traditional Islam and Modernity in Indonesia - Index of [PDF]

[ Pustaka NU Online ]

Nahdlatul Ulama, Traditional Islam and Modernity in Indonesia

Edited by Greg Fealy and Greg Barton Published by Monash Asia Institute This is the first English-language book on Nahdlatul Ulama (NU), Indonesia's largest Islamic organisation and also one of its least studied. Founded in 1926 to defend the interests of traditional Islam, NU has had a tumultuous history as both a political party and a socioreligious organisation. Its behaviour has frequently been enigmatic.

The contributors: (left to right) Andree Feillard, Greg Barton, Martin van Bruinessen, Mitsuo Nakamura, Greg Fealy and Douglas Ramage. This book with its collection of articles ranging from the historical to the contemporary, seeks to explain key aspects of NU's ideology and behaviour. These include the nature of its traditionalist doctrine, religiopolitical thought, relations with the state and internal power structures as well as its responses to change and modernisation. The six authors have all studied NU closely and their findings represent a substantial contribution to scholarly understanding of this organisatioon. Nahdlatul Ulama, Traditional Islam and Modernity in Indonesia will be of considerable value to those interested in Indonesian political history and Islam.

Monash Asia Institute Monash Paper on Southeast Asia No. 39

Table of Contents www.muslims.net/KMNU - Copyright © KMNU Cairo – Egypt

Introduction Greg Fealy and Greg Barton Nahdlatul Ulama, with a membership said to number around 35 million, is the largest Islamic organisation in Indonesia. It is also, as Martin van Bruinessen has observed, without parallel in the Islamic world as a genuinely mass-based organisation under the leadership of ulama (religious scholars). Despite the organisation's size and distinctiveness this is the first Englishlanguage book on NU to be published. NU was founded on 31 January 1926 in Surabaya by a group of eminent ulama (religious scholars), most of whom were leaders of pesantren (rural Islamic boarding schools). Their aim was to give organisational voice to the interests of traditional Islam, and particularly the pesantren system. During the 1920s many ulama felt concern over the rapid growth of Islamic modernism and its success in attracting Muslims away from the traditionalist sphere of learning and practice. NU's history can be divided into three broad phases: an initial period as a socio-religious organisation; a middle period when it functioned either as a political party or formal component of a party; and most recently, its return to social-religious activities. NU was founded as ajamiah diniah or religious organisation. Its original constitution committed the organisation to a range of religious, social, educational, and economic activities, including improving communication between ulama, upgrading Islamic schools, vetting texts for use in pesantren, and establishing bodies to advance Muslim farming and trading ventures. NU grew rapidly throughout the pre-war period. In 1933 it claimed a membership of 40,000; by 1938 this had swelled to 100,000 spread across 99 registered branches. It also grew in organisational complexity. In 1934, a youth wing was founded under the name Ansor. Four years later, a separate women's division, Muslimat NU, was formally established, along with an educational institute, Lembaga Pendidikan Ma'arif. During this period, it also set up a trading cooperative known as Syirkah Mu'awanah.

NU's involvement in political activities came gradually and reluctantly. From the late 1930s, it joined with other Islamic organisations in campaigning against colonial government regulations which were seen as inimical to Islam. It also supported the formation of GAPI (Gabungan Politik indonesia or Indonesian Political Association) and its call for the establishment of an Indonesian parliament in 1939. It was not until 1945, however, that NU entered formal politics as an organisational member of the Islamic party Masyumi. Increasing frustration with modernist domination of Masyumi led to NU's withdrawal from the party in 1952. It transformed itself into an independent party and emerged as the third-largest contestant at the 1955 general election with 18% of the national vote (only 4% behind the first-ranked party). NU maintained this level of support at the following general election in 1971. It also participated in every cabinet from 1953 to 1971. During the Sukarno period NU acquired a reputation for political flexibility and accommodation. Throughout the 1950s and early 1960s, NU reversed or modified earlier policies and undertakings in order to maintain its position within the government. The most notable of these was its acquiescence to the dismantling of parliamentary democracy and introduction of Sukarno's Guided Democracy from 1957 to 1959. Following the attempted coup of 1965, NU joined with the army in the bloody elimination of the Indonesian Communist Party, and supported the rise to power of the New Order government under MajorGeneral Soeharto. Although it had expected to be a significant partner in the new regime NU soon found itself a victim of the New Order's de-Islamisation of politics. It became the target of government restrictions and intimidation during the 1971 general election campaign and in 1973 was compelled to amalgamate with three other Islamic parties to form the United Development Party (PPP). During this period NU became a major source of opposition to the government. NU's involvement in party politics ceased in 1984. Increasingly marginalised within PPP and worn down by government harassment, NU left the PPP and reverted to its original socio-religious status. A new leadership team came to power, the principal figures of which were Kiai Achmad Siddiq and Abdurrahman Wahid. They proclaimed NU's return to the khittah 1926, that is the strategy of activity set out by the organisation's founding fathers, and embarked on a range of community welfare and economic development programmes. Relations with the government improved markedly after NU agreed to its demands to accept the national ideology, Pancasila, as the organisation's sole foundation.

There have been surprisingly few studies made of Nahdlatul Ulama. In the vast scholarly literature on Indonesia which emerged from the 1950s and 1960s, there was not a single article, monograph or doctoral dissertation devoted exclusively to NU. This was in marked contrast to the quantity of writing on other major social and political organisations such as Muhammadiyah, Masyumi, the Nationalist Party and the Communist Party. This lack of academic interest reflected the ideological and intellectual preoccupations of scholars of Indonesian Islam during this period. Most were either modernist Muslims or western researchers who favoured investigating and promoting those elements in Indonesian society which were seen as'modem-minded', 'rational', and technically or professionally skilled. Traditionalist Muslims, with their emphasis on classical Islamic learning and observing cultural traditions, tended to be regarded with scepticism and disdain. They were portrayed as Politically naive and opportunistic, administratively inept, and venal. For most scholars of this period, NU's traditionalist leaders were dismissed as largely irrelevant to the task of modernising Indonesia. It was not until the early 1970s that foreign scholars Undertook serious study of NU. The writings of Ken Ward, Ben Anderson and Mitsuo Nakamura did much to stimulate academic interest in the organisation, as also did the work of emerging traditionalist intellectuals such as Abdurrahman Wahid, Zamakhsyari Dhofier, Choirul Anam and Arief Mudatsir (see the select bibliography). The quantity and variety of research on NU-related topics has grown rapidly since the mid-1980s. This book is representative of the recent research on NU by nonIndonesian scholars. The nine chapters in this volume are arranged in approximate chronological order and span the period from the early traditionalist organisations which preceded NU in the 1910s through to 1995. The focus of all but two chapters, however, is on the period from the late 1970s. NU congresses form the basis of four chapters. These quinquennial congresses have supreme decision-making authority within NU and their proceedings reveal a great deal about the organisation's thinking and culture. They witness often frank debate about its activities since the previous congress and determine NU leadership and policy on a wide array of religious, political and social issues for the ensuing five-year period. Given NU's size and influence, congressional decisions frequently have a significance that extends far beyond the organisation itself. Unlike many other major Indonesian organisations, NU has generally weIcomed outside observers to its congresses and

imposed few restrictions upon access to delegates or proceedings. As a result, the authors of these chapters have been able to observe the four congresses from 1979 at close hand. There are several related themes and issues which recur throughout the book. The first of these concerns the nature of NU's political ideology and behaviour Critics have often accused the organisation of being motivated by material and social advancement rather than by religious principles. Various contributors to this collection argue, however, that NU's political outlook is greatly shaped by classical Islamic thought. They consider the content of this classical heritage as well as differences of opinion within NU over interpretation and application- This discussion serves to explain NU's swings from political pragmatism and accommodation to militancy and idealism. A second theme concerns the nature of leadership and distribution of power' within NU? An analogy is often drawn between leadership of a pesantren and that of NU: just as the kiai enjoys absolute authority within his pesantren so too are a relatively small number of kiai said to dominate decision-making in NU. Although few scholars would dispute the hegemony of ulama, the more vexed issue is the degree to which NU's leadership reflects the interests and aspirations of the broader traditionalist community. There are three NU leaders who are subject to close study in this book: Wahab Chasbullah, Achmad Siddiq and Abdurrahman Wahid. Wahab and Abdurrahman, in particular, have frequently been portrayed by their detractors as autocrats who have imposed their will upon a reluctant or uncomprehending mass membership. In examining the role of these leaders, contributors have analysed their bases of power and use of traditionalist concepts and symbols to attract support. The final theme is that of NU's response to social change and modernity. Traditionalist Muslims have commonly been portrayed as innately conservative and suspicious of change. Adjectives used to describe NU have included kolot (oldfashioned) and jumud (unbending, resistant to change). It is apparent in many chapters of this book, however, that traditionalists have adapted quickly and, at times, creatively to changed social and political conditions. Considerable evidence is adduced, moreover, to show that NU's attitudes to change and modernity are not monolithic. Indeed, for much of the organisation's history the struggle between reformist and conservative streams has dominated its internal dynamics. In chapter one Greg Fealy examines the life and thought of Kiai Wahab Chasbullah, a co-founder of NU and one of the most influential traditionalist leaders of this century. In describing

Wahab's formative years, he identifies those elements which typified the educational and career experiences of young traditionalist ulama and those which deviated from them. Particular attention is given to exploring the nature of Wahab's authority within the organisation and the manner in which he drew upon Sunni traditions of political quietism in leading NU towards pragmatic and accommodationist policies during the 1950s and early 1960s. Andree Feillard analyses NU's political behaviour during the transition from Guided Democracy to the Soeharto regime in the mid- to late 1960s. She looks at the changing relationship between army and NU, especially in the context of the growing controversy over the formal role of Islam within the emerging New Order political system. The divisions within NU's leadership during this period are also closely examined. The two contributions by Mitsuo Nakamura deal with the period from 1979 to 1984. His article on the 1979 Congress in Semarang (chapter three) was originally published in 1981 and is notable as the first scholarly account of an NU congress. In addition to describing the proceedings and ambiance of this congress, Nakamura analyses the relationship between NU's political behaviour and its religious ideology. He is especially interested in explaining NU's shift from 'opportunism' during Guided Democracy to radicalism in the New Order. He argues that the organisation's demeanour is contingent upon whether it perceives general social and political conditions to be favourable or antipathetic to Islamic values. Hence, NU cooperated with a Sukarno regime which granted concessions to Muslims, but opposed what it saw as the repressive and anti-Islamic aspects of the Soeharto government. He also provides a reflective critique of the prevailing academic bias against traditional Islam. Nakamura's second contribution (chapter four) complements the first. It focuses on the three critical events of the early 1980s: the 1982 crisis surrounding Idham Chalid's leadership; the 1983 National Ulama Conference; and the 1984 NU Congress in Situbondo. Nakamura also analyses the formulation and intellectual foundations of NU's pemulihan Khittah 1926, the restoration of NU's founding program of social and religious activity, and considers the organisation's plans for using pesantren as launching points for village-level socio-economic development activities. In the fifth chapter Greg Barton provides a translation of and introductory remarks upon the writings and statements of Kiai Achmad Siddiq, NU's rais am from 1984 to 1991. Siddiq was a major force behind the organisation's shift from political to community-oriented activities in the early 1980s. The chapter

contains excerpts from his seminal 1979 work Khitthah Nahdliyah and also a series of interviews published in 1985 under the title Islam, Pancasila and Ukhuwah Islamiyah. The topics covered include the role of ulama in NU and Indonesian society, traditionalist attitudes towards tawassuth (middle way) and ijtihad (personal interpretation), and the relationship between Pancasila and Islam. The first of Martin van Bruinessen's contributions (chapter six) examines the NU Congress. He offers a detailed description of the internal politics surrounding the re-election of Siddiq and Abdurrahman Wahid before considering the debate over policy issues. As part of the latter discussion, he looks at the differing definitions of and approaches to NU's 'social concerns' (syu'un ijtima'iyah) agenda, including attitudes to banking and rural development strategies. In the following chapter, van Bruinessen analyses broader religious and intellectual changes in traditional Islam. He challenges the stereotype of immutable traditionalism, arguing that it has a demonstrated capacity for evolution and innovation. The defining elements of NU's doctrine and devotional practises are described and the author notes the growing convergence between traditional and modernist beliefs. Van Bruinessen is particularly concerned to examine ways in which notions of the past and tradition are used by reformminded traditionalists to bring about change in NU. He looks at the reformulation of the khittah by Achmad Siddiq and a new generation of leaders as well as the renewed emphasis upon issues such as community dialogue, social justice and economic development. Chapters eight and nine focus on the thought and career of Abdurrahman Wahid. Greg Barton provides a brief biographical overview of Abdurrahman's early life before analysing his writings and intellectual development during the 1970s and early 1980s. Barton asserts that Abdurrahman can only be fully uderstood as a committed religious thinker, and not simply as an activist and leader. He argues that Ahdurrahman's writings throughout this period display a consistent conviction that Islam, if rightly interpreted and applied, is essentially liberal and progressive, and that reform and adaptation must be the ongoing Concern of Islamic communities. Douglas Ramage brings a political science perspective to his analysis of Abdurrahman Wahid's philosophy and approach to political issues in the early 1990s (chapter nine). He concentrates on three key issues: democratisation, religious tolerance and Pancasila. Ramage deals with Abdurrahman's objections to the government's use of Islam and Pancasila to

entrench its own legitimacy and sets out his aspirations for a Pluralistic, 'de-confessionalised' Political culture in Indonesia. He examines Abdurrahman's critique of ICMI as an organisation with sectarian tendencies and also his involvement in Forum Demokrasi. This raises fundamental questions about the formal position of Islam and NU in the Indonesian state and the direction of political reform. The final chapter deals with the controversial 1994 NU congress at Cipasung and the bitter repercussions of the following year. Greg Fealy places these events in the context of the growing uncertainty over Presidential succession and the future of the New Order regime. He reviews Abdurrahman Wahid's first two terms as NU chairman and his deteriorating relationship with President Soeharto. The alliance between antiAbdurrahman forces within NU and sections of the government, army and ICMI is closely analysed. Fealy concludes that Abdurrahman's victory reaffirmed NU's independence from the government and its potential to influence the transition to a post-Soeharto era. The editors wish to acknowledge the assistance of the Centre of Southeast Asian Studies at Monash University, and its Research Director, Professor David Chandler. The genesis for this book was a conference in September 1991 called Contemporary Trends in Indonesian Islam which was organised by Greg Barton and sponsored by the Centre. Papers presented at this conference by Martin van Bruinessen, Mitsuo Nakamura and Greg Barton have formed the basis for three chapters of this collection. We are also grateful to Martin van Bruinessen for his helpful suggestions when the project was in its formative stages. Finally, we would like to thank our colleague Natalie MobiniKesheh for proofreading the text and Daniela Mariani, the Monash Asia Institute's Publications Officer, for her technical advice and patience in helping us prepare this manuscript. First published 1996 by Monash Asia Institute Monash University Clayton VIC 3168 Australia Copyright 1996 Monash Asia Institute This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for tile purposes private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written

permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher. National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication Data: Nahdlatul Ulama, traditional Islam and modernity in Indonesia. Bibliography Includes index ISBN 0 7326 1006 0 ISSN 0727 668O 1. N.U. (Organisation). 2. N.U. (Organisation) - History. 3. Islam Indonesia - Societies, etc. 4. Indonesia - Politics and government 20th century. I. Fealy, Greg, 1957-. II. Barton, Greg, 1962-. III. Monash University. Monash Asia Institute. (Series: Monash papers on Southeast Asia; no.39). 959.803 Typeset by Daniela Mariani Printed by Amazon Printing, Warmambool Cover design by Monash Graphic Services Foreword Abdurrahman Wahid This is the first non-Indonesian book to discuss Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) in detail. It gives an interesting picture of the organisation as it has developed both politically and morally. One of the aims of the book is to explain the characteristics of NU as a traditionalist Islamic movement. Traditionalists are widely supposed to be rather backward in orientation and ossified in their understanding of Islamic society and thought. It is held that their persistence in upholding orthodox Islamic law (i.e., the Sunni mazhab or legal schools) leads them to reject modernity and a rational approach to life. Similarly, in matters of theology, their determined adherence to the scholasticism of al-Asy'ari and al-Maturidi is said to have resulted in a fatalistic understanding of submission to God's will and a disregard for the exercise of free-will and independent thinking. Traditionalists are furthermore accused of being too other-worldly in their practice of ritual Islamic mysticism (tasawuJ). Their activities within the suJi orders (tarekat) give the appearance of forsaking the present world in the hope of gaining eternal happiness in

heaven. Thus, the commonly held view of traditionalists is that they are a wholly passive community unable to cope with the dynamic challenges of modernisation, the sort of community that scholars regard as belonging to a dying tradition. The articles in this book in fact give another picture: that of a community with sufficient vitality to be able to absorb and deal with social change in a rational fashion. This includes the ability to be able to make adjustments in areas of profound importance. For example, the relatively easy acceptance of the right of women to obtain an education equal to that of their male counterparts testifies to an ability to rethink the archaic concepts previously embedded in traditional culture. One might also cite the readiness to apply the principles of Islamic law to issues such a family planning, birth control and modern banking practices as demonstrating a capacity to adjust religious imperatives to the realities of life. These are evidence of a community able to confront the modern world in a dynamic way without losing its moral anchors. In contrast to the rigidity of thought evident in certain puritanical movements in the Islamic world--movements often referred to as 'modernist'--NU's religious teachings allow flexibility. These teachings, which the traditionalists refer to as 'aqidah ahlus sunnah wal-jama'ah', demonstrate the depth of NU's ability to sustain its own tradition in the face of the turbulent changes which have shaken the Muslim world over the past one and half centuries. This does not mean that modification to the established teachings of Islam takes place in an easy manner. On the contrary, dramatic and bitter debate has frequently occurred. One instance was at the 1984 National Congress when the issue of whether NU should have Pancasila or Islam as its sole foundation (asas tunggal) was considered. It was only after clarifying that Pancasila should neither be treated as a religion in the life of the nation nor be made to contradict religion that the congress was able to adopt the state ideology as its sole basis. The doctrine of ahlus sunnah wal-jama'ah was retained as NU's creed. This placed both in a unique and complementary relationship. The sufi or mystical orientation of NU members provides a moral discipline and degree of social cohesiveness which enables them to endure change, even when it encompasses the structure of the state. Thus, the recent far-reaching changes to the educational system, which could potentially give rise to traumatic experiences, have seemingly caused minimal disruption for NU as a community. The age-old and somewhat archaic educational institution of the pesantren, a kind of Muslim boarding school and community learning centre which can be

found in many Indonesian villages, has proven capable of coexisting in a 'give and take' manner with modern Westernised schools. NU's role in contemporary Indonesia has been to bring about changes in the attitudes and world-views of a very large number of Muslims, especially in adapting to the challenges of modemisation. This role is sometimes misunderstood by observers, leading them to see NU as an intermediary between a modernising state and traditional society. Clifford Geertz, for example, described NU kiai (religious scholars) as 'cultural brokers'. But this usage, as well as denoting a process in which the 'cultural brokers' select which aspects of modernisation to accept and which to reject, also implies that the 'cultural brokers' are themselves lacking in original opinions and approaches. This view of the role ofpesantren kiai, which was held to.constitute one of the most important elements of NU leadership, was refuted by the research of Hiroko Horikoshi. She showed in her study of the social function of kiai in West Java, that the impetus for change comes from within the core of religious thought following a prolonged interaction with the process of modernisation itself. (Editorial note: see Hiroko Horikoshi,'A Traditional Leader in a Time of Change: The Kijaji and Ulama in West Java', PhD dissertation, University of Illinois, Urbana, Illinois, 1976.) As an illustration of the kind of role played by NU in dealing with social change we may examine its decision to organise, through the Association of Pesantren (Rabitat Al-Ma'shid AlIslamiah), a series of forums to discuss the relationship between established Islamic teaching and different aspects of modern life such as science and technology, law reform, the role of parliament and local legislatures, organ transplantation for human beings, and the functions of modern economic institutions like insurance companies and stock exchanges. These discussions involving kiai from different levels of NU, who are involved in a wide range of activities, have already brought about many changes in the outlook ofthe community as a whole. One example of this was the acceptance, at the 1989 NU National Congress in Yogyakarta, of the idea of establishing a chain of small farmers' banks (called Bank Perkreditan Rakyat - BPR). In adopting this concept, which involved plans for a network of 2000 such banks by the year 2013, remarkably little resistance was encountered from NU's conservative wing, despite the fact that these were modern-style banks charging modest rates of interest. This ability to develop positive responses to the challenges of modernisation is dependent upon the resilience of NU's core

teachings in withstanding the full impact of Westernisation of society. It has, however, been severely tested by developments over the past five years, when NU has stood accused of infidelity to the established understanding of the 'Islamic concept of life'. This has occurred in the face of a push for the 'Islamisation of society' on the part of those who wish to legislate the teachings of Islam into national life. Included in this group are the politically active sections of the Association of Indonesian Muslim Intellectuals (ICMI). The callto 'Islamise' important aspects of modern life, including technology and science and even the economy (through the development of an 'Islamic Economics'), clearly demonstrates a serious challenge to the kind of'nativisation ofIslam' that NU has strived to achieve. The Islamists, as the proponents of the 'Islamisation of society' in tote are called, cannot accept the abandonment of the ideal of achieving a fully 'Islamic society' in Indonesia. Consequently, NU's concept of developing an 'Indonesian society where Muslims are free to follow the teachings of their religion voluntarily' has met with considerable opposition. This concept calls for the development of Islamic teachings so that they serve as the source of'social ethics' rather than as material for legislation. This notion of'the Islamic way of life' (syari'ah) operating as moral force in society rather than as a set of formal rules, is at odds with the ideal of achieving an 'Islamic society' which has become an article of faith for the Islamists. The passionate discourse between the two approaches is a sign of the mutual suspicion between NU and a large part of the Islamic movement in Indonesia today. Of course, we can resolve the contradiction between these two approaches in a more positive fashion by saying that many Muslims in Indonesia welcome both the Indonesianisation ofIslam and the Islamisation ofIndonesia. The importance of this book arises from the way in which it sheds light on both the essential character of NU and on its historical development. This is very useful in helping us to understand the reasons why NU's particular point of view differs from those of other Islamic movements. As such, this book is a valuable guide to understanding the collective mind of NU members and is essential reading for achieving an in-depth knowledge ofIslam and its adherents in modern Indonesia. Jakarta February 1996

Chapter One Wahab Chasbullah, Traditionalism and the Political Development of Nahdlatul Ulama Greg Fealy There have been few more controversial ulama (religious scholars) in modern Indonesian history than Wahab Chasbullah.1 During a half century of prominence Islamic affairs his actions aroused strong emotions ranging from veneration to contempt. For his followers he was an inspirational and dynamic ulama who gave resolute leadership to the traditionalist Muslim community in times of crisis.2 The more devoted of his supporters regarded him as a wali (saint), an ulama besar (eminent religious scholar) and bapak rohani (spiritual father). For his detractors he epitomised some of the worst aspects of traditional ulama-hood; he was seen as authoritarian, self-serving, casuistical, politically naive and corrupt. Critics pilloried him with appellations such as 'dictator', 'NU's fuehrer', 'kiai pemecah umat' (literally, the Islamic leader who split the community of believers) and kiai Nasakom (a derogatory reference to his role in supporting Sukarno's coalition of nationalist, religious and communist groups). The purpose of this article is to describe and assess Wahab's career and contribution to Indonesian Islam and politics. I will seek to show that whilst there were questionable aspects to his character and actions, he nonetheless had a profound impact on traditional Islam from the late 1910s and, to a lesser extent, on national politics in the 1950s and early 1960s. The article is largely biographical with particular attention given to two periods when his influence was most widely felt: the 1920s and 1950-60. In the former period it will chart his initial rise to prominence as an advocate of traditionalist Muslim values and interests, culminating in the formation of Nahdlatul Ulama, and in the latter, it will examine his term as rais am (presidentgeneral) of NU. There are considerable historiographical obstacles to writing an account of Wahab Chasbullah's life. He wrote little for publication and the surviving primary documentary evidence consists of only a few transcripts of speeches and debates, some reprinted letters, and an assortment of brief quotations in the press. In the scholarly literature on Indonesian Islam, he receives, somewhat undeservedly, only brief mention. As a result

the material for this study is drawn largely from literature produced by NU writers, much of it hagiographic, and oral evidence obtained from interviews with those who knew him.3 Contradictory information abounds in both of these sources. Early Life Although the general outline of Wahab Chasbullah's early life is reasonably clear, accurate dating of his movements prior to 1920 is extremely problematic. None of the data in the available biographical accounts of these years offers an internally consistent chronology. Wahab was born at his family's pesantren (traditional Islamic school) at Tambakberas, Jombang, East Java. The birth date is suggesting that the actual date may have been 1881 or 1884.4 He was the eldest of eight children,5 and his father, Chasbullah, was a wealthy kiai (religious teacher and scholar) and trader. His family contained many notable ulama and also boasted aristocratic origins.6 His great-grandfather was Kiai Sihah, the founder of Tambakberas. His upbringing and education were typical of a young santri (Muslim student) and aspiring ulama. He was raised at his family's pesantren and from the age of seven received basic religious instruction, including Arabic and Qu'ranic recitation, from his father. At 13 'Gus Dul', as he was known to family and friends, embarked on the life of a santri kelana ('wandering student'), travelling from one pesantren to another gaining religious knowledge. At each pesantren the santri kelana would study the particular texts and branches of Islamic learning in which that kiai specialised. Apart from its didactic aims this period as a 'wandering student' was also seen as a rite of passage from childhood to manhood during which time the santri would gain a sense of independence and self-knowledge. Over the next 15 years, Wahab studied at seven different pesantren in east and central Java. During this time he studied under two of the most influential Javanese ulama of the modern era: Kiai Cholil of Kademangan, Bangkalan, Madura, and Kiai Hasjim Asj'ari of Tebuireng, Jombang. In the latter part of the nineteenth century and early twentieth century Cholil was renowned for his charismatic teaching and magical powers. Hasjim Asj'ari, a prize student of Cholil's, enjoyed a high reputation for his rigorous intellect, piety and deep knowledge of Islamic law and hadis (traditions of the Prophet Muhammad). Both of these ulama attracted santri from throughout the archipelago to their pesantren. Wahab spent three years at Kademangan and four at Tebuireng, rising,

at the latter, to the rank of lurah pondok (effectively, manager of the pesantren's daily affairs).7 It was at these pesantren, that Wahab met many future leading ulama including Kiai Bisri Syansuri, who would become his brother-in-law and successor to the NU leadership, Kiai Abdul Karim, the founder of Lirboyo pesantren in Kediri, Kiai Abbas from Buntet, and Kiai As'ad Syamsul Arifin of Situbondo.8 An early indication of Wahab's outlook and temperament can be gained from accounts of his role in the discussion classes or kelas musyawarah for senior santri at Tebuireng. At these sessions various jurisprudential issues would be discussed, with santri being expected to prepare arguments based on references to the classical texts, the kitab kuning (lit. 'yellow books'). In contrast to most of his colleagues, who adopted a strictly textual and legalistic approach, Wahab advocated practical and contextual solutions to the application Of Islamic law. He argued that religious law should not be based solely on jurisprudential texts but must also be sensitive to social conditions. There was little point, he said, in issuing legal opinions which ordinary Muslims did not understand or would not follow. His calls for compromise in the application of the law generated spirited discussion at the kelas musyawarah with his good friend, Bisri Syansuri, a frequent disputant. Hasjim Asj'ari, who would often attend these sessions to offer comments, was also critical of his approach.9 Despite the disapprobation of his colleagues and teacher, Wahab held steadfastly to his views. This combination of wilfulness and realism would become hallmarks of his career. During these years as a santri kelana Wahab studied various aspects of Islam including dogmatic theology (tauhid), jurisprudence (fiqh) and roots of jurisprudence (usul fiqh), Arabic literature, and pronunciation and recitation of the Qu'ran (tajwid). Aside from religious studies, he showed a keen interest in politics and current affairs and would often engage in long debates with his fellow santri on these matters. He also enjoyed physical activities, most notably the indigenous martial art pencak silat. This was a favoured sport in pesantren and, although of short, wiry build, Wahab was said to be a game and skilled exponent.10 At about 27 years of age Wahab completed his Islamic education by travelling to Mecca to undertake the pilgrimage and further study. He was to spend five years there studying with various eminent teachers including Kiai Mahfudz Termas, Kiai Baqir Yogya, Kiai Muchtaram Banyumas and the most senior of all Indonesian ulama in the Hijaz, Syekh Ahmad Chatib from Minangkabau.11 Typically though, Wahab did not restrict himself to Islamic learning. He socialised widely with Malay and

Javanese students in Mecca and became active in politics. During his stay there (probably in late 1913) Wahab, along with three colleagues, founded a Meccan branch of the Indonesian political movement, Sarekat Islam.12 Traditionalist Leader Wahab returned from Mecca probably in late 1914 or 1915 when in his early 30s.13 The next ten years were a critical period in his personal development and public career. Rather than return to Tambakberas to teach and assist in the running of his father's pesantren, as was customary for an aspiring kiai, he decided to reside in the bustling port city of Surabaya. The cloistered and routinised nature of pesantren life probably held little allure for the energetic and ambitious Wahab. Surabaya, by contrast, was the second largest metropolis in the Netherlands Indies and boasted a cosmopolitan society and thriving commercial environment. It was also a major centre of political activity in the 1910s with Sarekat Islam, the leftist Indische Sociaal-Democratische Vereniging (ISDV) and numerous other organisations having their headquarters there. Wahab soon immersed himself in a diverse range of activities in Surabaya. In 1916 he married the first of his many wives, the daughter of Kiai Musa, a prosperous businessman and religious teacher in the suburb of Kertopaten, and began teaching at his father-in-law's Qu'ranic school.14 In the same year, he cofounded, with Mas Mansoer, a madrasah (Islamic school with grades and modern-style syllabus) called Nahdlatul Wathan (Revival of the Homeland). Wahab served as the head of its teaching council and was joined by close colleagues such as Bisri Syansuri, Abdul Halim Leimunding and Abdullah Ubaid.15 Wahab also established himself as a trader. He dealt initially in rice and wheat from his family's farm at Tambakberas, but later diversified into sugar and precious stones.16 In 1918 he helped to found a commercial cooperative amongst Muslims from Jombang and Surabaya. Called Nahdlatul Tujar (Revival of the Traders), Wahab held the important positions of Treasurer and legal adviser with Hasjim Asj'ari as chairman.17 Though short-lived the venture was a forerunner of many subsequent (and often ill-fated) attempts to create a trading network within the traditionalist Islamic community. Wahab's most lucrative business activity was that of syekh haj or hajj agent, arranging Muslim pilgrimages to Mecca.18 He began working in Kiai Musa's thriving hall agency in the late 1910s but also used connections which he had made with several Arab shaikhs in Jeddah and Mecca during his stay in the Hijaz

After his father-in-law's death, he assumed control of the business and soon became a major agent for the Kongsi Tiga shipping line.19 His involvement in hajj matters was later to prove controversial as allegations of inept or corrupt practices were made against him.20 But perhaps his most important activity in the late 1910s and 1920s was his participation in various religious and political groups. Wahab mixed widely in the world of Surabayan politics. A gregarious man who enjoyed debating issues and matching wits with others, he was well suited to political life. Unlike some of his fellow traditionalists, who regarded politics with disdain, Wahab believed it to be a fitting and, indeed, necessary activity for Muslims. 'Islam and politics are as inseparable as sugar and sweetness', he would often say.21 He remained active in Sarekat Islam (SI) at least until the early 1920s and seems to have been one of the young Muslims drawn into the circle of H.O.S. Tjokroaminoto, the charismatic SI leader. This would have brought Wahab into contact with prominent figures of the time and many future political leaders as well, including Agus Salim, Ki Hadjar Dewantoro, W. Wondoamiseno, Hendrik Sneevliet, Alimin, Muse, Abikusno Tjokrosujuso, and the young Sukarno, who was then boarding in Tjokroaminoto's house.22 Within the Islamic community of East Java, this was a time of growing polarisation between traditionalists and modernists. since the early 1910s, the modernist movement had expanded rapidly, particularly through organisations such as Muhammadiyah and Al-Irsyad. By the latter part of the decade rivalry between the two streams grew as the modernists won increasing support from within traditionalist strongholds along the north coast region and in eastern Java. This modernist advance posed a two-fold threat to the position of traditionalist ulama: firstly, their authority as religious leaders was challenged by modernist charges of 'un-Islamic' traditionalist practices and advocacy of informed personal interpretation of scripture (ijtihad); and secondly, the economic activities of their families and pesantren were jeopardised by modernist recruiting of wellto-do Muslim traders and landowners.23 Wahab soon emerged as a principal figure in the traditionalist response to this threat. One of his earliest initiatives was to establish a Muslim discussion group called Taswirul Afkar (Constellation of Thoughts) in 1918 with the prominent Surabayan ulama KH Achmad Dachlan of Kebondalam.24 Taswirul Afkar became well known for organising debates on religious problems and particularly issues such as ijtihad and taqlid (acceptance of the legal interpretations of ulama). It was significant as the first formal grouping where modernists and

traditionalists met to discuss such controversial matters.25 Wahab featured prominently at gatherings such as these. A vigorous and colourful debater, he was adept at blending serious discussions of principle or law with witty anecdotes or apposite stories from Islamic scripture and history. Although supportive of modernist efforts at educational and social reforms, he rejected their attacks on Sunni Orthodoxy and the primacy of ulama. It was the ulama, he would constantly remind his listeners, who were the legatees of the Prophet (pewaris nabi) and guardians of Islamic law. It was their meticulous scholarship in the sources and interpretation of religious law during the 911th centuries which had resulted in the establishment of the four Sunni law schools and an authoritative codification of the Syariah (Islamic law). Modern-day ulama continued this tradition of erudition and legal guidance. They alone possessed the necessary training and knowledge to interpret Islamic law, he argued. If non-ulama were to assume this role, as proposed by modernists, misinterpretations of the Syariah could arise leading Muslims to commit, unwittingly, improper or sinful acts. During the early 1920s, Wahab's profile rose with the growing rivalry between traditionalists and modernists. He would often engage in public debates with eminent modernists such as KH Achmad Dachlan, the founder of Muhammadiyah, and AlIrsyad's Syekh Achmad Soerkati.26 In 1921 Muhammadiyah established a branch in Surabaya and Achmad Dachlan succeeded in convincing Mas Mansoer, who had previously had family and professional links with both modernists and traditionalists, to join the organisation. Relations between Wahab and Mansoer seem to have deteriorated from this time, with the latter leaving Nahdlatul Wathan in 1922.27 The two thereafter became the leading spokesmen for their respective causes in Surabaya, engaging in debate at a variety of forums, and gathering around them contingents of loyal followers.28 1922 also saw Wahab embroiled in controversy at the first Al-Islam Congress held in Cirebon, West Java. Attempts to find common ground on reform of the Islamic education system and pre-requisites for ijtihad were only partly successful, leading to sharp exchanges between Wahab and various Al-Irsyad and Muhammadiyah delegates. The debate descended into mutual denunciations with the modernists accusing the traditionalists of polytheism (syirk) and the traditionalists branding the modernists as unbelievers (kafir).29 The traditionalists left the congress deeply mistrustful of the modernists' motives and took no further part in the organisation of subsequent Al-Islam congresses. Relations between the two groups worsened further in 1924 as

the Indonesian umat endeavoured to find a united response to two pressing international issues: the future of the caliphate following the Turkish parliament's abolition of that institution, and the capture of Mecca by the Wahhabi leader, Abdul-Aziz ibn Saud. Two world Islamic congresses were scheduled to deal with these issues, the first in Cairo in 1925 and the second in Mecca the following year. At the third Indies Al-Islam Congress held in Surabaya in December 1924 Wahab was chosen as the traditionalist representative on a three-member Indonesian ******* 1 Formally, Wahab's full name was Abdul Wahab Chasbullah though the spelling Hasbullah was also in common use. 2 The term 'traditionalist' refers to those Muslims who adhere to the teachings of one of the four Sunni Schools of Law (mazhab) and are also inclined towards syncretic devotional practices. 'Modernist' Muslims, by contrast, do not acknowledge a priori the authority of any particular mazhab and instead regard the Qur'an and (example of the prophet Muhammad) as the paramount sources of law. They are also highly critical of Muslims practising rituals of a non-islamic origin. 3 The main published source for biographical and anecdotal information is Saifuddin Zuhri, a loyal follower of Wahab. His Kyai Haji Abdulwahab Chasbullah. Bapak dan Pendiri NU, Yamunu, Jakarta, 1972, written to mark the 100-day anniversary of Wahab's death, is effusively eulogistic Saifuddin's Berangkat dari Pesantren, Gunung Agung, Jakarta, 19871 also contains numerous references to Wahab. The interview material used in this study was gathered during field research in Indonesia between June 1991 and July 1992, and in November and December 1994. 4 Most accounts of Wahab's birth date and early life seem to be sourced from Aboebakar's Sedjarah Hidup KHA. Wahid Hasjim dan Karangan Tersiar, Panitya Buku Peringatan aim. KHA. Wahid Hasjim, Jakarta, 1957 (p. 121) or less commonly, Parlaungan's Tokoh-Tokoh Parlemen di Republik Indonesia, C.V. Gita, Jakarta, 1956 (p. 214). Both give the 1888 date for Wahab's birth, based presumably on information provided or approved by him. The reasons for questioning this date are numerous. When Wahab died in 1971, his age was stated to be about 88, thus implying he was born circa 1883. He was also known to be several years older than his close friend and brother-in-law, Bisri Syansuri, whose birth date was almost certainly 18 September 1886. Finally, further support for an earlier birth date comes from the chronology of Wahab's early life in Aboebakar. It suggests that he spent some 20 years from the age of 13 gaining an Islamic education from various teachers in Java and later Mecca (p.122) before settling in Surabaya when about 32. Given that

Wahab had returned from the Middle-East by 1916, this indicates a birth date of about 1883-84. Although it would seem surprising that he would allow an incorrect birth date to be circulated, Wahab seems to have been little concerned with historical details. 5 Buku Informasi Pondok Pesantren Al-Lathifiyyah, Bahrul 'Ulum, Tambakberas, Pesantren Al-Lathifiyyah BU, Jombang, n.d., p.18. 6 His family claimed descent from King Brawijaya VI, one of the last (semi-mythical) rulers of Majapahit, and Jaka Tingkir, the sultan of the Sixteenth-century state of Pajang. See Saifuddin Zuhri, Abdulwahab, p.141. Wahab sometimes appended the aristocratic title 'Raden' to his name. 7 Aboebakar, p.121; and Abdurrahman Wahid, Kiai Bisri Syansuri Pecinta Fiqh Sepanjang Hayat, Amanah, Jakarta, 1989, p.8. 8 Aboebakar, p.122; and Abdurrahman Wahid, p.26. 9 Abdurrahman Wahid, p. 24; and interviews with KH Abdulwahab Turcham, Surabaya, 3 November 1991, Abdurrahman Wahid, Jakarta, 5 October 1991 and Zaini Dachlan, Jombang, 7 December 1994. For a description of the kelas musyawarah see Zamakhsyari Dhofier, Tradisi Pesantren, LP3ES, Jakarta, 1982, p. 31. The best account of the contrasting approaches to Islamic jurisprudence of Wahab and Bisri can be found in Aziz Masyhuri, AI Maghfur-lah KHM Bishri Syansuri, Al Ikhlas, Surabaya, 1983, pp. 58-62. 10 Aboebakar, p. 121; Saifuddin Zuhri, Abdulwahab, p. 23; and interviews with Hasib Wahab (Wahab's son), Jombang, 28 October 1991 and Hasyim Latief, Sepanjang, 19 September 1991. 11 Aboebakar, p. 123. 12 Abdurrahman Wahid, pp. 15-16; Aziz Masyhuri, p. 29; and A. P. E. Korver, Sarekat (slam 1912-1916: Opkomst bloei en structuur van Indonesie's eerste massa beweging, Historisch Seminarium van de Universiteit van Amsterdam, Amsterdam, 1982, p. 77, n. 119. Some sources incorrectly state 1917 as the date for his homecoming (for example, Abdurrahman Wahid, p. 15). There can be little doubt that he had returned by 1915. Following the outbreak of the First World War, the Dutch government repatriated most Indonesians in the Hijaz. This was completed by early 1915 and shipping links between the East Indies and Jeddah did not resume until 1919. (See Martin van Bruinessen, 'Muslims of the Dutch East Indies and the Caliphate Question', Les Annales de l'Autre Islam, no. 2, 1994, pp. 263-5·) Wahab must have returned prior to the cessation of shipping as Dutch

official documents from 1916 include him amongst the office-bearers of an Islamic school. Aboebakar also relates that Wahab was married in Surabaya by 1916 (p. 122). 14 Aboebakar, p. 125; and interview with Umroh Machfudzoh (Wahab's granddaughter), Yogyakarta, 2 January 1992. 15 Choirul Anam, Pertumbuhan dan Perkembangan Nahdlatul Ulama, Jatayu Sala, Solo, 1985, p. 25; Soebagijo I. N., KH Mas Mansur: Pembaharu Islam di Indonesia, Gunung Agung, Jakarta, 1982, p. 21; and Saifuddin Zuhri, Abdulwahab, p. 25. Branches of Nahdlatul Wathan 16 Were opened in other Javanese cities during the next decade. Interviews with Zaini and Ridlwan Dachlan, Jombang, 7 December 1994 17 A copy of the original declaration of Nahdlatul Tujar's formation is held in the Lakpesdam library, Jakarta. According to Abdurrahman Wahid (p.23), the impetus for founding Nahdlatul Tujar came from Wahab, even though the original document accredits this role to Hasjim Asj'ari. 18 A syekh haj would be paid by intending pilgrims to handle travel and accommodation arrangements as well as give religious guidance. 19 Interviews with Umroh Machfudzoh, Yogyakarta, 2 January 1992: 1(11. Amynulloh, Jombang, 8 December 1994; and Ridlwan Dachlan, Jombang, 7 December 1994. Also, Deliar Noer, The Modernist Muslim Movement in Indonesia, 1900-1912, Oxford University Press. Singapore, 1973, p. 229; and Soebagijo I. N., K. H Masjkur, Gunung Agung, Jakarta, 1982, p. 19. 20 Allegations and rumours of Wahab's mismanagement of hajj funds were commonplace in modernist circles and newspapers. Establishing the validity of such claims is almost impossible. It is noteworthy though that in traditionalist circles he enjoyed a good reputation as a syekh haj and maintained a busy agency until the late 1950s. Saifuddin Zuhri, Abdulwahab, p. 30. 22 Abdurrahman Wahid, p. 24; J.D. Legge, Sukarno: A Political Biography, George Alien and Unwin, Sydney, 1971, pp.54-55; Harsono Tjokroaminoto, Menelusuri Jejak Ayahku, Arsip Nasional RI, Jakarta, 1983, pp. 5 and 34; and Saleh Said, Kiyai Mas Mansur. Membuka dan Menutup Sejarahnya, Usaha Penerbitan Budi, Surabaya, n.d., p. 6. 23 Noer, p. 226. 24 Not to be confused with KH Achmad Dachlan from Yogyakarta, the

founder of Muhammadiyah. Aboebakar, p. 469; Anam, p. 27; and M. Ali Haidar, Nahdlatul Ulama dan Islam di Indonesia. Pendekatan Fikih dalam Polirik, Gramedia, Jakarta, 1993, p 43. 25 Dhofier, p. 27; and Soebagijo, Masjkur, p. 18. 26 Aboebakar, pp. 470-1; Anam, p. 30; and Saifuddin Zuhri, Abdulwahab p.26. 27 Mansoer became one of Muhammadiyah's most influential figures during the 1930s and served as its chairman-general from 1937 to 1942. 28 Syubbanul Wathan, an organisation established by the younger traditionalist members of Nahdlatul Wathan, was well known for its Staunchly pro-Wahab views. The leaders of Syubbanul Wathan included such future NU leaders as Abdullah Ubaid, Tohir Bari, Abdul Halim Leuwimunding, and Nawawi (Jagalan). Anam, p. 31; Aboebakar, p.470; and interview with Zaini Dachlan and Muhammad Madchan, Jombang, 8 December 1994. 29 I am grateful to Natalie Mobini-Kesheh for providing information from the official Dutch report on this congress (Mailrapport 85x/23) held at the Algemeen Rijkarchief (The Hague), Ministry of Colonies. Also, Neratja, 4 and 7 November 1922; and Noer, p. 227.

delegation to the Cairo congress.30 The delegation was cancelled however, when the Cairo congress was postponed. Arrangements for the second world congress in Mecca proved to be far more divisive. Whilst traditionalist Muslims feared that Ibn Saud would restrict Syafi'i rituals and education in the Hijaz modernists generally welcomed his coming to power.31 At the 1925 Al-Islam Congress in Yogyakarta traditionalist delegates were angered by the dismissive modernist attitude towards Wahab's proposal that Ibn Saud be required to guarantee religious freedom for all Muslims in Mecca. In early January 1926, a conference of modernist leaders in Cianjur, West Java, proposed another delegation to Mecca, but invited no traditionalists to participate.32 These events convinced many kiai of the necessity for separate traditionalist initiatives to ensure their religious views and interests would be represented. In mid-January 1926 Wahab with the approval of Hasjim Asj'ari, invited leading traditionalist ulama to endorse the foundation of a committee called Komite Hijaz (Hijaz Committee) which would dispatch a delegation to Mecca to represent traditionalist interests. On 31 January 1926,

15 ulama gathered at Wahab's Surabaya house and ratified the committee's formation. They furthermore decided to establish immediately a permanent organisation to represent traditionalist Islam. This new body was called Nahdlatul Ulama (Revival of the Religious Scholars). Hasjim Asj'ari was chosen as rais akbar (Supreme President), Achmad Dachlan Kebondalem was appointed as his deputy, and Wahab filled the third most senior position of katib (secretary) to the Syuriah (Religious Council).33 The respective roles of Wahab Chasbullah and Hasjim Asj'ari in NU's formation warrant close examination. There is considerable evidence indicating that Wahab was the main driving force behind the establishment of NU. According to some accounts he had, as early as 1924, proposed that an 'ulama association' be formed to provide a more coordinated and sustained response to modernist encroachment.34 It was an initiative aimed at bringing modernist-style organisational methods to a community more used to defending the individuality of ulama and the autonomy of pesantren. Although favourably received by some kiai the proposal foundered when Hasjim Asj'ari failed to give his approval.35 His refusal was probably motivated by a reluctance to sanction any new organisation which might further divide the umat or distract ulama from their religious duties.36 Without the support of Hasjim Asj'ari, the most respected ulama in Java, Wahab stood little chance of success. As an ulama he did not yet possess sufficient stature to attract senior kiai and their followers to the organisation. It would also have been difficult for him to proceed without the blessing of his own teacher.37 But with the apparent preparedness of modernists to act unilaterally from late 1925 Hasjim Asj'ari's opposition to a separate traditionalist organisation lessened and his backing was eventually given to the initiative.38 The success of the founding meeting of NU in January 1926 was assured once Hasjim Asj'ari's imprimatur had been obtained. It is thus apparent both Wahab Chasbullah and Hasjim Asj'ari played distinct but mutually indispensable roles in the successful formation of NU. Wahab provided the concept and organisational skill and Hasjim Asj'ari the religious legitimacy. By this period, the character and direction of Wahab Chasbullah's life was clearly defined. He possessed a diversity of talents and interests ranging from education and business to politics, international affairs and contemporary social issues. His gift for organisation and leadership was apparent as also was his great energy and persistence. Most importantly, he was a resourceful and determined defender of traditional Islam and the authority of ulama.

The hostility between the traditionalist and reformist groups in Indonesian Islam peaked during the late 1920s and early 1930s as organisations representing each stream engaged in an increasingly acrimonious battle for the allegiance of Muslims. NU adopted many of the methods of its modernist rivals, producing its own journals and promotional pamphlets, sponsoring public meetings and debates, recruiting members and opening new branches. Wahab worked indefatigably during this period. He was in heavy demand as a speaker, and also acted as editor and major fund-raiser for NU's early publishing endeavours, including the organisation's first magazine, Swara Nahdlatoel 'Oelama. He also travelled widely throughout Java recruiting ulama and cadre to the organisation.39 His endeavours to secure guarantees of religious freedom for non-Hanbali Muslims in the Hijaz culminated in 1928 when he led a two-man mission to Mecca.40 In a meeting with Ibn Saud he gained certain assurances of nondiscrimination against traditionalist activities in the Holy City. The apparent success of the delegation not only bolstered Wahab's standing in the traditionalist umat but also pointed to the benefits of having effective organisation.41 Most of the funds for the journey had been raised within NU and the delegation's credibility was enhanced by the fact that it represented a Permanent grouping of eminent Javanese traditionalist ulama. Apart from his activities within NU, Wahab remained busy in other fields as well. Upon the death of his father in 1926 he had assumed leadership of the family pesantren at Tambakberas but continued to spend most of his time in Surabaya.42 His business activities, particularly as a hajj agent and sugar and rice trader grew in size and prosperity. By the early 1930s he had also become increasingly involved in legal matters working as a pokrol bambu (bush lawyer) and advokat (barrister).43 Combining his debating prowess with a self-taught knowledge of Dutch civil law, he soon gained a reputation in East Java's Muslim community as a highly effective legal adviser and barrister.44 His colourful personal life also won him a certain celebrity Wahab had married at least nine times by the early 1930s. resulting in six children and much gossip in political and pesantren circles about his ever-changing marital circumstances.45 He was one of the few Muslims ill Surabaya to own a large American car and later attracted further attention when he purchased a powerful Harley-Davidson motorcycle. He became a familiar but nonetheless striking sight riding his motorbike at high speed around the countryside dressed in his

customary sarong, jacket and white turban.46 In the world of traditional ulama where idiosyncrasy was often seen as a virtue Wahab had much to recommend him. Conciliatory Period Relations between modernist and traditionalist Muslims began to improve from the mid-1930s. This was partly in response to articles in the Christian press and colonial government legislation which were seen as anti-Islamic, as well as a growing realisation within the umat of the deleterious effects of internecine squabbling. This new spirit of reconciliation was reflected in Wahab's own endeavours. In September 1937 he played a central role in the formation of MIAI (Majlis Islam A'laa Indonesia or Supreme Council of Indonesian Muslims), a federal body intended to improve cooperation between Muslim organisations. The initial meeting which led to MIAI's founding was held in Wahab's Surabaya house, and was attended by his NU colleague Achmad Dachlan of Kebondalem (not Mohammad Dachlan, as stated in some books), Mas Mansoer representing Muhammadiyah, and W. Wondoamiseno from SI.47 Both Wahab and Dachlan took up positions on the MIAI Secretariat, though from 1941 Wahid Hasjim and Machfoezh Shiddiq were NU's chief representatives. During Japanese Occupation of the Netherlands Indies, Wahab, like many ulama, accepted positions within the government. He was appointed to the Shu Sangi Kai or Regional Advisory Council in Surabaya in 1943 and in the same year was also involved in negotiations over the creation of the Japanesesponsored Islamic organisation, Masyumi, to which he was made a special adviser.48 When Hasjim Asj'ari, Machfoezh Siddiq and several other NU leaders were jailed for defying Japanese instructions, Wahab led the successful campaign to win their release.49 Upon the death of Machfoezh Siddiq in June 1944 he ******** 30 Noer, pp. 222-3; and Abdurrahman Wahid, p. 24. The other members of the delegation were Haji Fachroeddin from Muhammadiyah and Surjopranoto representing Sarekat Islam. 31 Noer, pp. 222-3; and Abdurrahman Wahid, p. 24. The Wahabbis adhered to the Hanbali legal code, regarded by the Syafi'ite Indonesians as the most puritanical of the four Sunni law schools. Indonesian traditionalists had been alarmed by reports that Ibn Saud had closed

some non-Hanbali classes and allowed the desecration of saints' had been popular places of prayer for Syafi'i Muslims.

grave sites which

32 H.O.S. Tjokroaminoto from SI and Mas Mansoer from Muhammadiyah were appointed as delegates. This delegation was then affirmed at the Al-Islam Congress at Bandung in February 1926. The traditionalist demands for religious freedom were also rejected by the Bandung congress. Wahab was unable to attend due to the death of his father. Anam, p. 52; and Noer, p. 223. 33 Aboebakar, pp.471-72; Anam, pp.51 and 54; and Noer, p.223. 34 This proposal apparently followed the success of special courses organised by Wahab at Nahdlatul Wathan in 1924 called 'Masail Diniah' (Religious Problems), which were intended to train senior santri and ulama to defend traditional Sunni practices and rebut the attacks of the modernists. Some 65 santri and ulama are said to have completed the course. See Abdul Halim, section Vt (Perjalanan Kaki); and Anam, p. 29. 35 Anam, p. 30. 36 An indication of Hasjim Asj'ari's thinking can be found in Abdurrahman Wahid, p. 26. 37 According to one source, Wahab and several colleagues continued quietly to develop the idea of an ulama organisation despite Hasjim Asj'ari's attitude, even to the point of drawing up a draft constitution and rules. This eventually became the framework for the first NU constitution. Anam, p.69. 38 Despite this, Hasjim Asj'ari still seemed a reluctant patron. According to both Aziz Masyhuri (pp.131-32) and Abdurrahman Wahid (p.27). Hasjim Asj'ari was not initially present at the 31 January meeting and could only be persuaded to attend after Wahab dispatched Bisri Syansuri to Jombang to escort him to Surabaya. No other source mentions this. 39 Saifuddin Zuhri, Abdulwahab, p.37; and Anam, p.78. 40 This was the Komite's second attempt to send a delegation to the Middle-East. The first delegation led by KH R. Asnawi (Kudus) failed to depart, so telegrams were sent instead. The lack of a reply to these led to the second delegation. Wahab was accompanied on the mission by a Surabaya-based Egyptian teacher, Syekh Abdullah Ghanaim al-Amir. Anam, pp.71_74; and Noer, p.224. 41 According to the NU journal, Swara Nahdlateol 'Oelama, some 3000 people attended the meeting at the Ampel Mosque in Surabaya at which Wahab announced the results of his delegation to Mecca. See Anam,

p.74, n.89. The success and even necessity for the mission is a matter of debate. Ibn Saud's assurances to Wahab carried the qualification that only practices in keeping with the scriptures would be allowed. (The delegation's letter to Ibn Saud and his written response are reprinted in Anam, lampiran 1-7). Many modernists also believed that lbn Saud had already promised not to interfere in most traditionalist activities so there was little to be gained from sending a delegation. See also Noer, pp.223-24. 42 Wahab would usually visit Tambakberas for several days each month to attend to pesantren affairs. He seldom taught there but frequently Supervised pencak silat contests amongst the santri. Interviews with KH Djalil, Balu, Jombang, 28 June 1992, and Zaini and Ridlwan Dachlan, Jombang, 7 December 1994. 43 A pokrol bambu provided advice about secular law to poorer pribumis (native Indonesians) and often served as a mediator in disputes between Dutch authorities and Indonesians. An advokat would represent client in civil court cases. It was not unusual for lower and middle-clasi Muslims to retain lay barristers tie. those with legal expertise but no formal qualifications) to handle their cases. 44 Interviews with Muhammad Madchan and Zaini Dachlan, Jombang. 8 December 1994 45 In keeping with Islamic law, Wahab never had more than four wives at any given time. Although it was not unusual for well-to-do Muslim men to have several wives, Wahab practised serial polygyny on a scale that had few rivals. No-one, including his own family, seems certain of the total number of times he married, though some well- informed sources believe it could have been in excess of twenty. As was common for kiai many of these marriages would seem to have been strategic. Four of his first ten wives were the daughters of other kiai, several of whom possessed considerable wealth. At least two of his other wives were members of prosperous Muslim trading families in East Java. A list of his first thirteen wives is provided in Aboebakar, pp. 125-6. 46 Interviews with Hasyim Latief. Sepanjang, 23 October 1991; Hasib Wahab, Jombang, 28 October 1991; and Muhammad Madchan, Jombang 8 December 1994. 47 Boekoe Peringatan MIAI, 1937-1941, Secretariaat MIAI, Surabaya, 1941, pp. 2-3; and Noer, p. 242. 48 Parlaungan, p. 215; and Harry J. Benda, The Crescent and the Rising Sun, KITLV Leiden, 1983, pp. 262-3, n. 6. 49 Saifuddin Zuhri, Abdulwahab, p. 46.

took over role of chairman-general of the NU board for the remainder of the Occupation.50 Following the declaration of Indonesian independence in August 1945, Sukarno appointed Wahab to the Supreme Advisory Council (Dewan Pertimbangan Agung). This was a prestigious position but one carrying little direct influence.51 Wahab's appointment did, however, indicate that he was on good terms with, and trusted by, the President. With the onset of the Indonesian Revolution Wahab became involved in the guerilla movement against the returning Dutch forces. He raised money for military equipment, addressed guerilla units and helped coordinate the recruitment and training of santri in East Java.52 Rais Am Following the death of Hasjim Asj'ari on 25 July 1947, Wahab Chasbullah, as the next most senior ulama within NU, assumed supreme leadership of the organisation. It was from this period until the early 1960s that, as rais am,53 he would dominate the organisation and greatly influence the course of its development. Before discussing his role as rais am it is necessary to examine first the internal dynamics and cleavages of NU from the late 1940s till the mid-1960s. Within NU's leadership during this period there existed what might best be termed two polarities: one of them hardline and the other pragmatic. NU leaders were orientated in various degrees towards one or other of these two 'poles' on the basis of ideology as well as ties of patronage or loyalty to a more senior kiai. The hardliners, in general, were those who favoured a firm adherence to both the letter and spirit of Islamic law. Their frame of reference was more scholastic and exclusively islamic than that of the pragmatists. They were strong supporters of the notion of an Islamic state and wanted formal recognition of the Syariah in the Indonesian Constitution. To this end they advocated the inclusion of the 1945 Jakarta Charter, which called for obligatory implementation of the Syariah for all Muslims, in the Constitution. They also placed a high value upon Islamic unity and argued that good relations with their coreligionists, whether modernist or traditionalist, should take precedence over relations with non-Muslims. An abiding anticommunism was especially evident. Other attitudes which characterised the hardliners included a disdain of politicking and its associated deal-making and compromise, a tendency towards conservatism on matters of social change, and a less syncretic

approach to Islamic devotional practice. The dominant figure amongst the hardliners was Bisri Syansuri though others, such as KH Achmad Siddiq, KH Mohammad Dachlan and KH Machrus All, were also significant at various times. The pragmatic stream, by contrast, displayed a less doctrinaire approach to policy and action. Its interpretation of Islamic law was more liberal and realist than that of the hardliners, with preference frequently given to general jurisprudential maxims and precepts over more specific legal interdictions.54 Among the most commonly used precepts were amar ma'ruf nahi munkar (enjoining good and preventing evil), maslahah and mafsadah (respectively, the pursuit of benefit and avoidance of harm), and akhaffud-dararain (in essence, choosing the lesser of two risks). There is much debate amongst Muslim scholars about the meaning and realisation of these precepts but in the hands of NU's pragmatists, they became a prescription for political flexibility and expedience. In policy terms the pragmatists were more cautious on the Islamic state issue because of concerns about alienating non-Muslim Indonesians and doubts that it would necessarily result in a more Islamic society. They were also far less concerned about maintaining solidarity with modernist Muslims, and indeed, often regarded the latter as rivals for the leadership of the umat. On many issues, they were closer to the nationalists, particularly those of more moderate persuasion, than to modernist Muslims, and their attitudes towards left-wing groups tended to be more tolerant. Wahab Chasbullah was the pre-eminent Pragmatist in NU's leadership. This was especially evident in his political outlook. He had little interest in elaborate or abstract political theories; politics, for him, was ultimately about the pursuit and use of power. He believed the best way for NU to protect and advance the interests of Islam and the community of believers was to secure a share of political power. In post-independence Indonesia, this effectively meant having influence within the government and legislature. The greater the number of NU ministers, bureaucrats and members of parliament, the better the organisation would be able to realise its aspirations. Wahab's views were strongly supported by many of NU's more politically-inclined leaders including Zainul Arifin, Masjkur, Idham Chalid and Saifuddin Zuhri. Despite this bipolarity within NU's leadership, the organisation's internal dynamics were remarkably fluid because of a strong preference for decision-making by consensus rather than voting. For either the hardliners or pragmatists to win on any given issue, they needed to attract the support of those

board members who lacked a strong a priori commitment to a particular view. Usually, once a clear majority had been persuaded towards a certain position, the remainder of the leadership would relent without forcing a ballot. During the period in question it was Wahab and the pragmatists who were most frequently ascendant. In examining Wahab's influence Upon NU's political behaviour, particular attention will be paid to four critical events: NU's secession from Masyumi in 1952; its decision to enter the cabinets of Ali Sastroamidjojo in 1953 and Djuanda tie. Kabinet Karya) in 1957; and lastly, the decision to participate in the Gotong-Royong Parliament In 1960. In all of these issues tensions between the hardline and pragmatic elements were evident. Secession Nahdlatul Ulama's separation from Masyumi was the greatest upheaval in Islamic politics of the early 1950s. Since the latter part of the 1930s there had been substantial cooperation between modernist and traditionalist organisations, firstly through MIAI, and later, from 1943, through Masyumi. The subsequent re-emergence of animosity between the two streams had long-term consequences for the dynamics of Indonesian politics. Aspects of the secession will be examined in some detail as they reveal much about Wahab's influence on events, his leadership style, and his outlook. The origins of the NU-Masyumi split can be traced to the 1949 Masyumi congress in Yogyakarta. A new generation of modernists under the leadership Mohammad Natsir won control of the Masyumi board and the party's rules were changed to limit the influence of the Majlis Syuro (Religious Advisory Council) which was chaired by Wahab Chasbullah and dominated by NU ulama. The political competence of traditionalist kiai was also ridiculed by modernist speakers leading to a walkout by NU delegates.55 Such was the anger at the perceived antitraditionalist trend within Masyumi that at the next NU congress, held in Jakarta in April 1950, sections of the organisation proposed that it withdraw from the party. Foremost among the pro-secessionists was Wahab, who viewed Masyumi's actions as not only an attempt to marginalise NU, but also a personal affront to his authority as chairman of the Majlis Syuro. As in the 1920s he set about rallying traditionalist Muslims to confront the modernist challenge. He told NU delegates that if Masyumi was unwilling to agree to a more equitable share of power between the party's main member

organisations and restore the powers of the Majlis Syuro, then NU should disaffiliate and establish its own political party. He was sanguine about NU's prospects outside Masyumi, and in a typically blunt and hortatory address to the NU congress, his first as rais am, he reproached colleagues who expressed misgivings about secession. There are many NU leaders in the provinces and also in the centre who are not convinced of NU's strength; they are more convinced of the power of other groups. These people are influenced by the whispers of other people who spread propaganda... NU's strength is like a cannon... [Yet] that propaganda makes the hearts [of NU leaders] shake as if their weapon is not a cannon, but only...a gelugu or coconut branch acting as a fake cannon...! The foolish (tolol) NU leaders aren't aware that this is the tactic of opponents to bring down NU by means of making its leaders doubtful d their own power.56 Despite support for the secession proposal, no formal decision was taken on the matter. The NU leadership was, however, instructed to negotiate with Masyumi regarding organisational reform of the party.57 Tensions continued to simmer over the next two years as the Masyumi board repeatedly rejected NU's demands. It was the refusal of the Masyumi board in February 1952 to nominate an NU member to the new cabinet which brought NU to the brink of disaffiliation.58 NU had expected to retain the Religious Affairs portfolio, a position it had held in the last two cabinets. Loss of this department, which had become NU's only stronghold in the bureaucracy and an important source of patronage, would have been a major blow. There was widespread anger and disillusionment within the organisation over Masyumi's actions. Wahab was especially incensed and resolved that if the Masyumi board could not be forced to back down and endorse an NU nominee to the ministry then NU would split from the party. From late February until early May he conducted an audacious campaign to achieve this end. His demands were served upon the Masyumi board in a series of three personal letters sent between 8 and 20 March. In the first of these he demanded, without the knowledge or approval of the NU board, the Religious Affairs and Defence portfolios for NU.59 He also released the letter to the press, thereby gravely undermining Masyumi's position in the delicately balanced negotiations over cabinet posts.60 His actions infuriated the Masyumi board.

In his second letter, on 15 March, Wahab called for President Sukarno to be directly involved in the allocation of portfolios and vented, in notably forthright terms, his own displeasure at being excluded from day-to-day political decision-making within Masyumi. He complained about 'various doors being jammed shut', and gave notice that he would 'pound on them' to test if they would open. His closing sentence stated: 'As a final warning, if it is evident that my pounding continues unheeded, then believe me, we will both soon see what happens'.61 In the final letter he gave Masyumi a two-day deadline to reverse their decision before NU would reconsider its membership of the party. This letter was accompanied by a statement from the NU board formally supporting, for the first time, Wahab's actions.62 Aside from his correspondence with Masyumi he also met and canvassed NU's options with other political leaders, the most notable of whom was President Sukarno who shared Wahab's strong dislike for the Natsir group.63 The breakdown in NU-Masyumi relations entered a terminal phase in late March. At a meeting with the Masyumi board on 23 March Wahab declared that his demands were an 'absolute condition' for any further negotiation and 'NU would struggle by itself if they were not acceded to. The board, irked by Wahab's ultimatums and politicking, rejected his conditions. He responded by immediately disclosing his correspondence and failed negotiations with Masyumi to the cabinet formateur, PNI's Wilopo, in the vain hope of securing the last-minute inclusion of an NU member. After learning of his actions an exasperated Masyumi board formally nominated Muhammadiyah's Fakih Usman as Minister of Religious Affairs on 26 March.64 Having brought NU to the threshold of secession Wahab and his supporters still faced the task of convincing the organisation to take the next step and transform itself into an independent political party. Despite widespread anti-1Masyumi sentiment within NU, many members were apprehensive about being seen to divide the umat. There was also concern about NU's potential to be a viable party given its ramshackle organisational structure and lack of cadre with sufficient educational and administrative experience. Wahab displayed no such doubts. For example, when a Masyumi leader asked sarcastically how many lawyers, engineers and doctors there were within NU, he replied in typical homespun fashion: If I buy a new car the salesman doesn't ask 'Sir, can you drive?' Such a question is unnecessary because if I can't drive a car I can post an advertisement: 'Driver Wanted'. Without doubt there will soon be a queue of candidates in

front of my door.65 In other words, once NU had its own political vehicle, the necessary expert personnel could be hired or coopted. The final decision regarding disaffiliation was taken at the NU congress in Palembang which began on 26 April 1952. There was heated debate on the issue with a vocal minority of delegates resisting the board's attempts to achieve unanimous approval for departing from Masyumi.66 According to an eye-witness account, at one point in the debate several leaders appeared to be wavering in their resolve so Wahab took the podium and declared: If you really doubt the stand we are taking, you are welcome to continue within Masyumi. Let me lead NU by myself as a political party separate from Masyumi. I only ask to be accompanied by just one young person---one is enough--as my secretary. Later you will see [what happens].67 Eventually the congress agreed to a formula which resulted in NU's official withdrawal from Masyumi on 1 August 1952.68 At the end of that month NU effectively became a political party by joining with two smaller parties--Perti and Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia--to form the Liga Muslimin Indonesia, a loose (and largely ineffectual) federation designed to counterbalance Masyumi. NU's estrangement and eventual departure from Masyumi offers one of the best documented episodes in Wahab's career. The picture which emerges is that of a man totally convinced of the correctness of his views and prepared to adopt an 'endjustifies-the-means' approach to achieve them. He wielded his authority as rais am and NU co-founder to the full, often behaving in an autocratic and pre-emptive manner but also displaying considerable political savvy. It was these qualities and his penchant for brinksmanship which led many modernists to blame him for the rupture between NU and Masyumi. It would, however, be more accurate to describe Wahab's role as catalytic rather than causal. Had there not been a substantial groundswell of resentment against Masyumi into which he could tap, Wahab would never have been able to marshal majority support for secession. Party Consolidation and Personal Triumph The period between 1952 and 1955 was one of rapid

expansion and consolidation for the new party. Having committed itself to political activity much now depended on attaining a significant share of the vote at Indonesia's first general election which was scheduled for September 1955. NU had boasted that some seventy per cent of Masyumi members were either NU members or sympathisers; it now had to attract their support.69 The three years following NU's secession were hectic for Wahab. Having played a pivotal role in NU becoming a party his own credibility was now tied to the success of NU's political venture. His responsibilities were numerous. As rais am he had to oversee the organisation's development and policy formulation.70 He began travelling regularly around the contryside mobilising support and building up the organisation's branch structure and financial base.71 As a senior member of NU's parliamentary fraction, he also figured prominently in determining party tactics and responses to pending legislation as well as negotiating with other party leaders. In addition to this, he became an increasingly important link between the President and NU. The two had enjoyed warm personal relations since at least the early 1940s. Apart from their shared experience of Surabayan life in the 1910s and 1920s, Wahab and Sukarno had many interests in common, including politics, international affairs, Javanese culture and a fascination with attractive women. After Sukarno's elevation to the presidency in 1945, Wahab became a regular visitor to the palace. His quick, earthy humour and forthright counsel on political and religious issues were, by all accounts, welcomed by Sukarno.72 With NU's emergence as an independent party the mutual benefits of close Presidential-NU relations would have been evident to both men. Sukarno sought to promote NU as a moderate Islamic alternative to Masyumi while Wahab hoped the President's support would bolster his party's prospects in a highly competitive political system. Wahab's great admiration for Sukarno's leadership qualities must also have influenced his behaviour. He believed that NU should support the President not only because of his key role in achieving Indonesia's independence but also because he remained a crucial figure in maintaining and developing a sense of national unity and purpose.73 In the middle of 1953, NU faced a new crisis in its relations with Masyumi, again over cabinet positions. The resignation of the Wilopo government in early June led to almost two months of protracted and intense discussions between various parties over the composition of a new cabinet. NU's preferred option was for a 'United Front' cabinet containing both PNI and

Masyumi. Opinion within NU was divided, though, on how to proceed if these two parties refused to coalesce. The more hardline NU leaders were committed to maintaining solidarity with their fellow Muslims in Masyumi whilst the pragmatists, who remained mistrustful of that party's modernist leadership, were prepared to enter a non-Masyumi coalition with the PNI and smaller nationalist and Christian parties. Neither side commanded a majority in its own right and relied on attracting support from the sizeable 'undecided' element within the party's leadership. Initially NU aligned itself with Masyumi in the maneuvering for portfolios on the understanding that it would receive the Religious Affairs Ministry. When, however, in late July discussions between Masyumi and PNI again broke down NU began dealing directly with the formateur over positions in a non-Masyumi cabinet. President Sukarno was widely believed to have intervened in the ensuing negotiations urging NU and other smaller parties to join.74 On 30 July NU finally accepted an offer of three portfolios--those of Second Deputy Prime Minister, Religious Affairs and Agriculture--in a new cabinet to be led by PNI's Ali Sastroamidjojo. Its decision was bitterly criticised by Masyumi leaders who claimed to have received an undertaking from NU not to break ranks with their party.75 Although much of the internal politics regarding NU's decision to enter the Ali cabinet remains obscure, Wahab seems once again to have played a critical role. In the final meetings of the NU leadership to consider the party's stance on the cabinet Wahab reportedly argued emphatically for participation.76 The case put by him and his fellow pragmatists was based mainly on the jurisprudential precepts of amar ma'ruf nahi munkar and maslahah. According to this line of argument participation was justified in order, firstly, to prevent harm to the nation and its political system by breaking the long impasse in forming a new government and, secondly, to secure benefit for NU and its Muslim constituency. Regarding the latter point it was asserted that as the second largest party in government NU's ministers would be able to implement many of the party's policies and also enhance its prospects at the next election.77 This view was eventually accepted though an undertaking had to be given to hardliners that NU backing would be withdrawn if the cabinet's performance proved unsatisfactory. ******** 50 Anam, p. 123.

51 Parlaungan, p. 214. 52 Saifuddin Zuhri, Abdulwahab, p. 50; and interview with Hasjim 11September 1991.

Latief, Sepanjang,

53 Whereas Hasjim Asj'ari had been referred to as the rais akbar, Wahab, out of deference to his predecessor and teacher took the somewhat humbler title of rais am. 54 I am indebted to Kiai Muchith Muzadi, Ali Haidar and Martin van Bruinessen for their helpful comments on differing approaches to jurisprudence within NU. 55 See Idham Chalid's account in Amak Fadhali (ed.), Partai N. U. Perkembangannja, Tohaputra, Semarang, 1969. p. 27.

dengan Aqidah dan

56 Saifuddin Zuhri, Berangkat, p. 390. 57 Saifuddin Zuhri, Kaleidoskop di Indonesia, vol. 3, Gunung Agung, Jakarta, 1981, p. 213. 58 The Masyumi board's intention was to nominate a Muhammadiyah member as Minister of Religious Affairs. This followed considerable criticism of how previous NU Ministers had handled the portfolio. The board believed that Muhammadiyah not only had superior candidates to those proposed by NU but was also entitled to demand that such an important ministry for Muslims be rotated amongst the major Islamic organisations. 59 The Political Advisory Council of the NU board was forced to issue a press statement claiming that Wahab's actions were a personal initiative and had not been discussed at a board level. Berita Indonesia, 8 March 1952; and Abadi, 10 March 1952. Wahab had also, without prior consultation, renominated Wahid Hasjim, the incumbent Minister of Religious Affairs (and his nephew by marriage). despite Wahid's firm refusal to stand again. Interviews with Solechah Hasyim Wahid Hasjim's widow), Jakarta, 19 November 1991 and Hamid Baidowi, Jakarta, 26 April 1992. 60 Buku Putih, DPP Masyumi, Jakarta, 1952, pp. 11-12. 61 Reproduced in Buku Putih, pp. 20-1. 62 Buku Putih, pp. 26-8. 63 Berita Indonesia, 1 March 1952; and Buku Putih, p. 6.

64 Buku Putih, pp. 29-32. Wahab's meeting with Wilopo also unsettled his colleagues. Wahid Hasjim wrote a personal note to Natsir regretfully informing him of his uncle's actions. His note is reprinted in ibid. p. 31-2. 65 Saifuddin Zuhri, Berangkat, p. 399. 66 Wahab had earlier locked a reluctant NU board into accepting, in principle, secession from Masyumi and presenting this to congress for ratification. This made it far more difficult for the anti- secessionists as a failure to confirm the board's decision would be taken as repudiation of the organisation's leadership. This tactic of 'raising the stakes' for his opponents was employed on numerous occasions by Wahab during his term as rais am. Pikiran Rakjat, 8 April 1952; Haluan, 9 April 1952; and interview with KH Muchith Muzadi, Jember, 2 July 1992. 67 Saifuddin Zuhri, Berangkat, p. 398. 68 According to several delegates at the congress, Wahab's speech failed to persuade a number of influential anti-secessionists. A compromise formula involving the establishment of a committee to negotiate with the Masyumi board over the terms of separation was only able to be struck after the intervention of Wahid Hasjim. Interviews with Nuddin Lubis, Jakarta, 17 July 1992 and KH Muslich, Jakarta, 26 September 1991. 69 See the comments of Mohammad Dachlan in Pikiran Rakjat, 5 April 1952. 70 Until his death in April 1953, Wahid Hasjim, as deputy chairman of the NU board, directly managed much of the administrative and policy work for the party. His untimely demise in a car accident robbed NU of one of its most gifted and competent leaders. 71 Amak Fadhali, PP 28-30; and interview with Idham Chalid, Jakarta, 15 2999 1992. According to Idham, he and Wahab spent most weekends from mid-1952 to 1954 visiting NU branches and pesantren. 72 Interviews with Solechah Hasyim, Jakarta, 19 November 1991; Hasib Wahab, Jombang, 28 October 1991; Hamid Baidowi, Jakarta, 17 July 1992; and Ruslan Abdulgani, Jakarta 20 July 1992. 73 Interviews with KH Muslich, Jakarta, 26 September 1991; KH Nasrulloh, Jombang, 29 October 1991; and KH Jusuf Hasjim, Jakarta, 74 This was not the first time NU had entered into direct cabinet negotiations following Masyumi's withdrawal. In the fourth week of negotiations it appeared on the verge of agreeing to a Ministry in a proposed non-Masyumi cabinet but withdrew when several other parties

14 July 1992.

expressed reservations. Herbert Feith, The Decline of Constitutional Democracy in Indonesia, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 1962, pp. 333-4. 75 Deliar Noer, Partai Politik Islam di Pentas Nasional, Grafiti Pers, Jakarta, 1987, p. 235; and Abadi, 31 July and 3 August 1952. This claim is problematic. Noer provides no details of who gave the undertaking and there appear to be no surviving documents, official or otherwise, Which refer to it. More importantly, NU had demonstrated five weeks beforehand that it would consider participating in a non-Masyumi cabinet, so it would seem surprising if the Masyumi leadership withdrew from cabinet negotiations on the basis of this 'undertaking', as Noer asserts. 76 Noer, Partai Islam, p. 235; and field notes of Dr Herbert Feith. 77 The statement of the NU board, reprinted in Merdeka, 12 September 1953, declared that the principle of amar ma'ruf nahi munkar and Calculation of maslahah and mafsadah obliged NU to join the new cabinet, albeit without Masyumi. See also the comments of Zainul Arifin and Nur A.G.N. in Abadi, 3 and 4 August 1953; and interviews with Idham Chalid by Dien Madjid, Arsip Nasional, Jakarta Selatan, tape no.18.

The formation of the Ali cabinet was of considerable significance. Firstly, it demonstrated how NU under the pragmatic leadership of Wahab Chasbullah could strengthen the middle ground of Indonesian politics and, in certain circumstances, combine with other parties to isolate Masyumi Secondly, as the longest-serving government during the sevenyear period of parliamentary democracy, the Ali cabinet allowed NU to consolidate itself as a political force. For almost two years the party used its position in government to provide resources, employment and a wide range of other preferments to its members and supporters.78 The patronage networks established during this period greatly assisted the party's recruitment and electoral activities and would continue to serve NU throughout the remainder of the Sukarno years. At the 1955 general election NU emerged as the third largest party in Indonesia, attracting almost seven million votes or 18.4% of the national total and lifting its parliamentary representation from 8 to 45.79 The result caused jubilation within the party. Whilst many had hoped for a strong showing, few seriously believed such an outcome was likely. The party's own campaign committee had predicted on election eve that NU would only capture between 20-25 seats.80 The election result was not only a victory for the party but also a personal triumph for Wahab. It was he who had led NU's

move into politics and persuaded his more sceptical colleagues of the organisation's capacity to become an independent and influential party. His sagacity and prescience now seemed confirmed by NU's remarkable electoral success. The postelection period marked the peak of his career and power within the party. Amongst the grassroots of NU, where a strong culture of venerating senior kiai existed, Wahab was increasingly acclaimed as a wali, and many stories circulated extolling his oracular and magical abilities.81 Wahab used his authority during this time to promote proteges of a pragmatic persuasion to high office in NU. At the party congress in Medan in December 1956 several of his most loyal lieutenants were appointed to strategic positions within the organisation. Chief among them was Idham Chalid, who replaced KH Mohammad Dachlan as the chairman-general of the Tanfidziah (Executive Board).82 He had developed a close relationship with Wahab in the early 1950s, often accompanying him on his travels to NU branches. A shrewd but cautious man with a keen political instinct, Idham prospered under Wahab's tutelage, learning much about organisational, debating and oratorical techniques whilst also building up his own network of support within the party. Other Wahab supporters to be elevated included Saifuddin Zuhri, who became secretarygeneral, and the wealthy businessman and film producer, Djamaluddin Malik, who became third chairman of the NU board. These appointments strengthened the pro-Wahab element within the NU leadership, with many continuing to be influential figures in the party until the 1970s and 1980s. Not all of Wahab's activities in the mid- to late 1950s showed good judgement. His apparent willingness to use his position in NU and connections with government to advance his family's pecuniary interests and career prospects was a particular source of criticism, both within the party and without. Although nepotism is not uncommon in the tightly-knit kinship groups of Javanese ulama, many NU leaders and cadre looked askance at Wahab's ardent promotion of, amongst others, his eldest son, Wahib Wahab, and stepson, Achmad Sjaichu, both of whom had been elected to parliament in 1955.83 Wahab's business dealings, especially those involving Chinese entrepreneurs or government licences, also gave rise to concern. Several of these dealings came under public scrutiny in 1956 when sections of the Jakarta press began publishing allegations that Wahab and Wahib had sought preferential government treatment for a number of commercial ventures.84 While it is difficult to determine the validity of these accusations it would not have been surprising, given the frequency with which political leaders of the time

extracted personal gain from public office, for Wahab to have engaged in such practices. Despite maintaining a relatively simple Personal lifestyle, the financial needs of his pesantren and large family would have been considerable.85 The Accommodation of Guided Democracy The period from 1957 to 1960 was one of great upheaval in Indonesian politics as President Sukarno, with support from the army, progressively dismantled the existing system of parliamentary democracy and replaced it with the more authoritarian 'guided democracy'. The transition to guided democracy created serious tensions within the NU leadership as it raised fundamental questions regarding the future shape of Indonesian politics and NU's place within it. There were three elements of this transition process which proved especially divisive for NU: firstly, the shift of power from a democratically-elected parliament and parties to the executive and particularly the President; secondly, the marginalisation of Masyumi resulting from its iii-fated involvement in the regional rebellions and staunch opposition to Sukarno's political reforms; and thirdly, the expanding role and influence of the PKI and other left-wing groups in government. The hardliners within NU strongly objected to each of these aspects whereas the pragmatists were prepared to accept them. According to the hardliners it would be sinful for the party to Support or condone any actions which breached the principles of democracy and arbitrarily reduced the influence of Islam whilst bolstering that of communism. Hence, opposition to guided democracy was a moral imperative. Some argued it was also a Sound political strategy to thwart Sukarno's initiatives. They reasoned that for Sukarno to form a credible coalition government he would need the participation of at least one of the two major Islamic parties. If NU joined with Masyumi in rejecting guided democracy, Sukarno would be forced to temper abandon hi, plans and the Islamic parties would have demonstrated their combined power to set the political agenda. The pragmatists' accommodatory approach to guided democracy reflected, above all else, a conviction that far greater danger lay in resistance than in acquiescence. It was a stance which, characteristically, emphasised risk minimisation and retention of political influence as a means of protecting the umat. Central to their argument was a belief that Sukarno and the army now held sufficient power to dictate the terms of the political restructuring and punish those who resisted. Opposition was thus not only futile but also extremely dangerous for NU and

its constituency. Far better, they argued, for NU to remain within government from whence it could exert a moderating influence on Sukarno and counter the activities of the PKI. Some of the more pro-Sukarno pragmatists were attracted to the notion of guided democracy, particularly as it allowed a greater role for the President to act as a unifying figure and surmount Indonesia's political ills. As for the fate of Masyumi, many pragmatists believed that its problems were largely self-inflicted. Its rigid opposition to Sukarno's plans as well as its complicity in the regional rebellions had discredited the party and ultimately harmed the interests of both political Islam and parliamentarianism. In any case, Masyumi's demise as a political force made it doubly important for NU to provide Islamic representation within the government. There were two important occasions during the transition to guided democracy when the party was forced to choose between the pragmatist and hardline positions. These concerned the issue of participation in, and by extension, approval of, newly created institutions in the transition process. The first, in early 1957, was the extra-parliamentary Kabinet Karya (Working Cabinet), and the second, in mid-1960, was the Sukarno-appointed Gotong-Royong (Mutual Assistance) Parliament. In both cases there was considerable ambivalence among NU leaders not yet committed to either a hardline or pragmatic stance. Many acknowledged the validity of the hardliners' arguments about upholding democracy, showing loyalty to Masyumi and resisting the leftwards movement of Indonesian politics, but were also deeply apprehensive about the risks to NU of opposing guided democracy. The pragmatists eventually won by persuading their colleagues that risk avoidance was of higher priority. Wahab, as NU's pre-eminent ulama-politician, figured prominently in gaining majority support for the pragmatist position In the tense meetings which decided NU's stance he dominated proceedings, repeatedly warning his colleagues that there was grave danger in resisting Sukarno's demands and that their paramount responsibility as Islamic leaders was to safeguard their faith and party from such danger. He also shrewdly coaxed waverers with the argument that NU should enter the cabinet while it had the chance, and could later withdraw should the government's performance prove unsatisfactory. Such a course removed the risk of immediate political isolation but still left the party with the option of opposing Sukarno's actions at a later date. He encapsulated this principle in the catchphrase: 'enter first; leaving is easy' (masuk dulu; keluar gampang).86 To appease the hardliners he promised that NU would refuse to join any cabinet which contained PKI members. Participation in the

Kabinet Karya was finally agreed to on the basis of maslahah, with the NU leadership declaring it would endorse the four NU ministers appointed by Sukarno 'in order to bring the greatest possible benefit for us all...or at the very least minimise harm (madlarraat)'.87 The issue of the Gotong-Royong Parliament proved more intractable. Certain hardline ulama, notably Bisri Syansuri and Achmad Siddiq, argued that participation would be tantamount to condoning ghasab, a jurisprudential term referring to the arrogation of another's property or rights. Sukarno, they asserted, had violated the rights of electors and the dismissed Parliamentarians by arbitrarily dissolving the popularly-elected legislature and replacing it with a parliament of largely government appointees. Despite the efforts of Wahab and his fellow pragmatists, these hardliners remained implacable, forcing the NU Syuriah to issue a split decision which stated that, according to Islamic law, involvement in the new parliament was '(1) allowed with intention of amar ma'ruf nahi munkar [ie promoting good and preventing evil] or (2) disallowed because it entails ghasab'.88 As a result, NU nominees to the GotongRoyong parliament were free either to accept or to reject appointment based on whether they believed it to be a case of amar ma'ruf nahi munkar or ghasab.89 At a series of subsequent party meetings Wahab strongly urged NU's nominees to take up their appointments in order to maintain a share of political power which could be used to protect the umat in the uncertain times ahead. All but three of NU's 55 nominees later accepted positions in parliament.90 Its acquiescence to the process of political restructuring allowed NU to secure its position within the system of guided democracy. The forced dissolution of Masyumi in September 1960 left NU as the sole major Islamic party and the chief religious component in Sukarno's Nasakom (an acronym formed from nasionalisme, agama and komunisme or nationalism, religion and communism). In reality its influence, like that of the PNI, was greatly reduced, with power now increasingly concentrated in the hands of the President, the army, and the PKI. NU was able, however, to use its position in government to further build its organisational structure and patronage networks as well as to counter the activities of the PKI. Wahab Chasbullah's dominance of the party during the late 1950s owed much to his ability to persuade his colleagues that pragmatism was not only politically sensible but religiously correct as well. As the party's most experienced politician and also the one closest to Sukarno, his political views carried immense weight. In religious debates he spoke with the assurance

of an ulama who had spent much of his life advocating genera: principles of risk minimisation and expedience. Though lacking the jurisprudential scholarship of Bisri Syansuri or Achmad Siddiq, he drew on his debating skills and knowledge of Islamic history, typically citing precedents from Sunni Islam's long tradition of political quietism. He was also adept at appealing to the non-confrontationist proclivities of NU's predominantly Javanese leadership. In addition to his political and religious authority Wahab's forceful personality and preparedness to take advantage of NU's culture of deference to senior kiai made him a formidable force within the party. He was not, however, the dictator that his critics claimed him to be. On those occasions when he swayed the party to a particular course, it was usually because it found his reasoning persuasive. When he was unconvincing, his proposals were rejected.91 Twilight Years Wahab's role and influence within the party declined progressively throughout the 1960s. From the early part of the decade his health began to deteriorate causing him to spend an increasing amount of time at his pesantren and rely ever more heavily Upon trusted lieutenants such as Idham Chalid and Saifuddin Zuhri. His personal morale and prestige within NU were also dented by the actions of Wahib Wahab who had been appointed Minister of Religious Affairs in 1959. His inept handling of this portfolio attracted considerable criticism from the Muslim community and reached an ignominious conclusion 19 February 1962 when Wahib was forced to resign from cabinet over his involvement in a foreign currency scandal.92 Having vigorously promoted Wahib's career both within NU and the government Wahab was now acutely embarrassed by his son's misdeeds.93 The damage to the party's reputation caused many NU members to lament the cost of Wahab's ill-judged nepotism. After 1963 his authority was further weakened by the emergence within NU of a more militant anti-communist and anti-Sukarno movement which enjoyed strong support in the party's youth and veterans' organisations. Whilst the WahabIdham group within the party's central leadership continued the policy of accommodation, the militants mounted a campaign of direct opposition to PKI activities and the leftwards drift of Indonesian politics under guided democracy. This campaign included mobilising NU members to physically resist the PKI's unilateral land reform offensive in 1964 and joining with the army and other anti-communist groups in eliminating, by mass execution and detention, the PKI following the 1965 coup

attempt. Wahab played only an incidental role in these activities. Although he was briefed about the militants' activities and occasionally asked to approve them formally, he had little direct input into their planning or decision-making. In the immediate aftermath of the 1965 attempted coup, for example, it was the younger leaders such as Subchan Z.E., Jusuf Hasjim, Zamroni, Moenaser and Chalid Mawardi who took the initiative in formulating NU's staunchly anti-PKI stance. Wahab went along with the policy of denouncing the PKI but his appeals for caution and attempts to defend Sukarno did little to dampen the fervour of the militants.94 The nadir of his long career came during the 24th NU Congress held in Bandung in July 1967. Wahab's support base within the party was crumbling with many delegates believing that he was no longer capable or politically acceptable as rais am. Now in his eighties Wahab was stricken with blindness and several other ailments which severely hampered his movements. Moreover, at a time when NU was keen to demonstrate its repudiation of the old guided democracy regime and endorsement of General Suharto's 'New Order', Wahab's leadership had become anachronistic. No other NU leader had been more closely associated with Sukarno or more identified with guided democracy. Anti-Wahab sentiment was further inflamed by his clumsy attempts prior to the congress to suspend Subchan in order to improve the prospects of Sjaichu and Idham.95 In the subsequent ballot to elect the rais am, Bisri Syansuri received a clear majority of the votes. He refused, however, to accept the position whilst his friend and brother-in-law remained alive. The congress was forced, by default, to reappoint Wahab, though he now bore the indignity of being the first incumbent president of NU to lose an election ballot.96 Most of Wahab's last years were spent quietly at Tambakberas. Effective leadership of NU fell increasingly to Bisri Syansuri and Idham Chalid. In December 1971 Wahab, despite being gravely ill, attended his 25th and final NU congress in Surabaya. Although too sick to deliver his presidential address or take much part in proceedings he was re-elected rais am by acclamation. He died at Jombang on 29 December, four days after the congress closed.97 Conclusion Wahab Chasbullah's influence upon Indonesian Islam and politics was considerable. For almost 50 years he served as a pivotal figure in the defence, organisation and political development of traditionalist Islam. This began in the late 1910s

with his involvement in the founding of Taswirul Afkar, Nahdlatul Wathan, and Nahdlatul Tujar, and continued in the early 1920s when he rose to national prominence as an advocate of traditionalist values and interests at Al-Islam congresses and public meetings. The high point of his early career was his central role in the establishment of Nahdlatul Ulama in 1926, which soon became the main representative body for traditionalist Muslims. His involvement in the forming of MIAI eleven years later is also noteworthy. But his period of greatest power came during the 1950s when, as rais am, he led NU from Masyumi and oversaw its transformation from a small and hesitant opposition party into the largest, most politically secure Islamic party in Indonesia. The success of the party was in no small measure due to Wahab's ability to steer it towards a pragmatic and accommodatory course from which it could enter the political mainstream. Judgements about the moral and qualitative aspects of Wahab's career will depend upon the normative criteria used. He was, above all else, an arch-traditionalist with a deep commitment to fostering and developing traditional Islam in order to ensure its place in a rapidly changing society and state His willingness to subordinate principles of Islamic solidarity and liberal democracy to the interests of traditionalist advancement has been much criticised as also has his dubious business practices, his nepotism and autocratic and domineering manner. For his detractors, they are evidence of an unscrupulous, intellectually narrow and self-interested personality. Despite the validity of some of these criticisms, they should not overshadow the magnitude of Wahab's achievements; no other Person has been so influential in shaping traditionalist responses to a variety of challenges over such a long period of time. Wahab Chasbullah deserves to be regarded as the most significant traditionalist Islamic leader in Indonesia this century. detractors, they are evidence of an unscrupulous, intellectually narrow and self-interested personality. Despite the validity of some of these criticisms, they should not overshadow the magnitude of Wahab's achievements; no other person has been so influential in shaping traditionalist responses to a variety of challenges over such a long period of time. Wahab Chasbullah deserves to be regarded as the most significant traditionalist Islamic leader in Indonesia this century.

*****

78 NU was by no means unique in using government to expand its patronage networks. Most parties from the time of this Ali cabinet engaged in the practice to some degree, with the PNI the most notorious exponent. 79 Feith, pp.434-35. Masyumi gained 20.9% of the vote and 57 seats I" 1956, NU's numbers in parliament rose to 47 when two Chinese minority representatives, Tan Eng Hong and Tan Kiem Liong (later Mohammad Hasan), joined the NU faction. 80 Interview with KH Idham Chalid, Jakarta, 15 June 1992. 81 These stories often focused on the special relationship which was said to exist between Wahab and God. His knowledge was claimed to have been received directly from God (laduni) rather than acquired by learning. He was also said to have gained divine guidance through istikharah, a Special prayer seeking God's help in deciding how best to resolve intractable problems. Other stories told of his magical powers, including the ability to be in several places simultaneously as well as make himself and others invisible. 82 Dachlan's relations with Wahab had often been strained. His strict adherence to official procedures and party regulations frustrated Wahab end others who usually relied upon informal networks within the organisation. He was also one of the few NU executives prepared to query openly Wahab's actions. Consequently, prior to the Medan congress Wahab sanctioned a campaign by Idham's supporters to remove Dachlan. Interviews with Nuddin Lubis, Jakarta, 6 December 1991 and 22 July 1992, and Achmad Sjahri, Bekasi, 15 January 1992. 83 Wahib was the focus of much of this disquiet. Most observers believed he lacked the judgement and diligence to hold the high political office which his father sought to obtain for him. His subsequent appointment as Minister of Civilian-Military Cooperation in 1957 and then Minister of Religious Affairs two years later dismayed many sections of the party. Sjaichu was a more able leader than his step-brother, though his aloof manner and reported collaboration with the Dutch in Surabaya during the Revolution hindered his acceptance within the party. He became leader of NU's parliamentary faction in 1957 and entered cabinet in 1963 as Deputy Speaker of the parliament. 84 The main allegations concerned three companies in which Wahab and Wahib were involved: P.T. Sri Gula, a sugar marketing firm; C.V. Kurnia, putatively a rubber exporter; and P.T. Rahmat, a small sugar processing operation. Sri Gula endeavoured (apparently unsuccessfully) to gain a partial monopoly on domestic sugar sales and Kurnia obtained a special licence (lisensi istimewa) to export rubber slabs. Both companies were backed by Chinese capital leading to charges of them being 'AliBaha' enterprises (a reference to the practice of pribumi Indonesians fronting Chinese

businesses). See, for example, Indonesia Raya, 11, 20 and 27July and 28 August 1956. Also interviews with Hamid Baidowi Jakarta, 12 July 1992 and Nuddin Lubis, Jakarta, 17 July 1992. 85 According t, Aboebakar (PP 125-6) by the mid-1950s Wahab had Sixteen children. 86 Abadi, 12 April 1957; Sin Po, 17 April 1957; and interview with KH Idham Chalid, Jakarta, 15 June 1992. 87 Siaran ke-V, PBNU, 14 April 1957, pp. 4-5, Koleksi Nahdlatul Ulama, Arsip Nasional, Jakarta Selatan (hereafter refered to as AN), folder no.158. 88 See Keputusan P.B. Sjuriah, 25 April 1960, reprinted in Laporan Pengurus Besar Nahdlatul Ulama (Reports to the 1962 NU Congress in Solo), December 1962, lampiran 8, AN 3. For reports of the debate within the Syuriah see Mimbar Umum, 29 April 1960, and 21 and 24 June 1960. 89 'Putusan Sidang Pleno PBNU Tentang DPR-GR', 24 June 1960, Laporan Pengurus Besar Nahdlatul Ulama, December 1962, lampiran 9, AN 3. 90 Laporan Fraksi NU, 1960, AN 260; and Mimbar Umum and Duta Masjarakat, 18 June 1960. The three nominees who refused to join the parliament were Z. Arifin Tanamas, Jusuf Hasjim and Mohammad Dachlan. 91 The best example of this was NU's refusal in 1959 to support the return of the 1945 Constitution without the Jakarta Charter. Wahab had argued for passing the Constitution. 92 Wahib's questionable business dealings and marriage to a non-Muslim Chinese woman in Singapore had been a constant source of controversy during his time as a minister. That Sukarno chose to demand his resignation in 1962 may well have been partly due to deteriorating relations between the two men. According to several sources, Wahib had clashed repeatedly with Sukarno during 1961 over the issue of PKI involvement in the cabinet. Interviews with Muhammad Madchan, Jombang, 8 December 1994; and Said Hilabi, Jakarta, 6 December 1994· See also, Duta Masjarakat, 19 March 1959, 6 January 1960 and 2, 3 and 9 November 1962. 93 Saifuddin Zuhri writes candidly of Wahab's distress at his son's behaviour in Berangkat, pp. 492-5. Wahib was probably saved from serving a lengthy prison term by the intervention of Sukarno.

94 Interviews with Chalid Mawardi, Jakarta, 14 August 1991; KH Moenasir, Mojosari, 14 September 1991; Said Budairy, Jakarta, 30September 1991; KH Jusuf Hasjim, Jombang, 26 October 1991 and Jakarta, 14 July 1992. 95 Subchan's suspension was overturned by the NU board shortly before the congress started. Interviews Asnawi Latief, Jakarta, 22 July May and 29 June1967; and Allan Samson, 'Islam and Politics in Indonesia', Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, 1972, p. 183. 96 Aziz Masyhuri, p. 63; and interviews with Asnawi Latief, Jakarta, 25 April and 22 July 1992; KH Jusuf Hasjim, Jakarta, 14 July 1992; Nuddin Lubis, Jakarta, 29 April 1992 and 22 July 1992; and Chalid Mawardi, Jakarta, 25 February 1992. 97 Saifuddin Zuhri, Abdulwahab, p. 117; and Tempo, 8 January 1972. Chapter Two Traditionalist Islam and the Army in Indonesia's New Order: The Awkward Relationship Andree Feillard

Nahdlatul Ulama (NU), Indonesia's largest traditionalist Islamic organisation, played a legitimating role in the rise of President Suharto's New Order military-backed regime following the abortive coup of September 1965 (the coup which triggered the elimination of Indonesian communism). A unique phenomenon in the Muslim world, NU grew in importance from that time on, in large part because it was the only major political force, next to the army, which remained intact. The fact that it gained more than 18% of the vote in the 1955 and 1971 general elections further contributed to its political weight. NU was established in 1926 as an association of ulama and their followers in the pesantren (religious boarding school) milieu. It came steadily closer to the centre stage of Indonesian politics during the 1950s, despite its rural roots which often caused it to be slighted by the Jakarta elite, both secular nationalist and Islamic modernist. During the Second World War, the Japanese had made NU's president-general (rais am) head of the National Religious Affairs Office (Shumubu),1 and

after independence, the Ministry of Religious Affairs was given to an NU leader (after initially being held by a modernist Muslim). The period of parliamentary democracy saw NU rise as a political party when it took the rather audacious step in 1952 of parting from the major Islamic political party, Masyumi, whose leadership was, according to NU leaders, too much dominated by modernists. In the first national elections in 1955, NU's political strength was demonstrated when it became the third largest party, after the PNI (Partai Nasionalis Indonesia--The Nationalist Party of Indonesia) and Masyumi. The PKI (Partai Komunis Indonesia--the Communist Party of Indonesia) was the fourth-ranked party. Each of NU's three main competitors were swept aside over the next decade. In 1960 Masyumi was banned because of its ties with the 1958 PRRI (Pemerintah Revolusioner Republik Indonesia--the Revolutionary Government of the Republic of Indonesia) rebellion in Sumatra. Following the 1965 coup the PM, being perceived to be too close to Sukarno, was severely weakened while the PKI was banned and its members either killed or incarcerated. Thus, of all the major political parties from the Sukarno era, NU was the only party of consequence left. As such, NU's response to developments in the period immediately after the coup was important in reshaping Indonesia's political system after Sukarno's 'guided democracy'. Ironically, as NU abetted the army's rise to power it simultaneously found itself increasingly sidelined in Indonesian politics. This drove some Within it to a new radicalism, away from the tradition of Sunni Pragmatism in politics, which has always been a distinctive feature of NU's political thinking.2 I shall analyse the early relationship between the army and NU, and the many reasons for their later estrangement, looking beyond the general assumption that the military had neither the intention of sharing power nor the intention of letting ideologies and religions divide the country. I shall begin by retracing the role NU played in General Suharto's installation as president in 1968. This history is important if one is to understand the reaction of deep disappointment that followed when traditionalist Islam was given a subordinate political role after the 1971 elections. Following this, I shall describe the mounting tension, both in the political and religious fields, between the two political groups, a tension that culminated in the violent 1971 election campaign. This led to a long period of malaise which only came to an end in 1984, when NU decided to leave practical politics and allow its members to support the army-

backed Golkar party. We shall see that the Sunni tradition of government legitimation, which determined NU's political strategy in 1966, and also in the 1987 elections, was not an uncontested approach, but had serious opponents even among the ulama. The Alliance with the Army NU's reaction to the events of 30 September 1965 was seen in the massive outbreak of anti-communist violence that followed the coup.3 There is strong evidence that in East Java, Ansor, the youth wing of NU, played an important part in the anti-communist killings of 1965-1966.4 When in December 1965 the Team Peneliti Korban G30S PKI, an official factfinding mission into the killings, reported back to Sukarno, the president is said to have strongly reprimanded the delegates of the team who were Ansor members, saying he was disgusted by Ansor's role in the slaughter.5 But NU's official political position was in fact due more to prudence than anything else. The fact that some senior NU leaders had a strong attachment to Sukarno made their position difficult. This resulted in the emergence of two distinct currents of thought, a radical, proarmy current and another one rather more ambivalent about its support for Suharto's new army-backed regime. NU's Role in the Rise of President Suharto On 1 October the first reaction of NU's senior leaders was to seek information about the kidnapping of the army's six top generals, who were later found to have been killed. Indeed, the mounting rivalry between the army and the PKI was clear to everyone, but the radio announcement by the coup leaders on October had not indicated any PKI involvement, saying instead that it was 'a movement within the army' aimed at Protecting Sukarno from an army plot sponsored by the CIA.6 Suspicion of communist involvement was, however, high among the NU leadership.7 The decision was taken to have NU senior leaders go into hiding while a mandate was given to 34 year old Zainuri Echsan Subchan, NU's fourth vice-chairman, to deal temporarily with NU's day-to-day affairs.8 Subchan was an obvious choice as a young unmarried, well-to-do and outspoken anti-communist who had good contacts not only with some army generals but also with youths groups from outside NU circles. Apparently, Subchan was given the task of 'preserving NU's unity and studying the origins of the coup'. He would also have been given instructions to make whatever alliances were

necessary to safeguard the interests of NU and its members.9 It is difficult to ascertain the official position taken by NU at the time to the events of 30 September as all non-government publications were banned until 7 October. NU archives show that Ansor made a declaration on 1 October, rejecting a claim made in a radio broadcast that four NU or NU-affiliated leaders were members of the 'Revolutionary Council' (a body named by the coup leaders to which all power in the Republic was to be passed until new elections could be held).10 Ansor appealed to its members to remain loyal to Sukarno and not be drawn into the 'counter-revolutionary' action of the Thirtieth of September Movement. Muslimat, the NU women's association, made a similar denial on 2 October.11 On 3 October Ansor asked its members to assist the army in restoring order.12 A large-scale massacre of communists followed shortly after. At the same time, the Action Front to Crush the Thirtieth of September Movement (KAP-Gestapu) was created with Subchan and Harry Tjan Silalahi of the Catholic party as its leaders. On 4 October at a mass rally in Jakarta, they asked, in the name of major political mass organisations which included Ansor, for a ban on the PKI.13 The KAP-Gestapu was thereafter to play an important role in the fight against communism. NU's formal position at this time remained unclear. While young NU leaders showed great eagerness to react fiercely, the senior leadership remained very much in the background.14 If we are to believe Duta Masyarakat, NU's daily newspaper, a declaration was read in a radio broadcast on 1 October, urging members to keep loyal to Sukarno and help the army restore order.15 After several meetings with the army, an NU statement was finally issued and read on the radio on 4 October, calling for the PKI and its affiliates to be banned.16 Interestingly, the declaration was prepared by young NU activists, with Subchan's blessings, but was not actually signed by the NU leadership until the following day. On 5 October, at the burial of the six generals who had been kidnapped and later murdered by the coup leaders, senior NU leaders were met by two of the party's younger leaders and pressed to sign.17 Idham Chalid, the NU chairmangeneral, signed it later at a cabinet meeting in Bogor.18 Clearly, the initiative was in the hands of junior NU leaders while senior leaders were wary of making the wrong steps in a confused political situation. Thus, by mid-October, ambiguity continued to Prevail when instructions were given to all NU media, including Duta Masyarakat, 'to preserve good relations with the PKI, with Sukarno, and not to offend the Air Force, and the Armed Forces in general'.19 A 'mission impossible'. From this point onwards NU began increasingly to take sides

with the army. Apart from Subchan's action in organising anti. PKI student demonstrations within the KAP-Gestapu and KAMI,20 NU's role in Parliament became crucial for the legal transfer of power from Sukarno to General Suharto. Indeed, with the help of student demonstrations, the army had enjoyed an initial first success: emergency powers had been handed over by Sukarno to General Suharto on 11 March 1966. But only the Consultative Assembly (MPRS) had the power to confirm and extend these powers. Here, the role of Achmad Sjaichu, a leading NU figure, was particularly important. As deputy speaker of Parliament (since 1963), and then as speaker (after June 1966), he approved three successive parliamentary purges by which leftist members were replaced by army-backed MPs. Following his election as speaker, he called for a meeting of the MPRS. The assembly conferred emergency powers upon Suharto until such time as elections could be held. It also allowed the army's further involvement in Parliament through the nomination of more MPs from the 'functional groups', which served as the military's political arm. Six months later, several student groups demanded Sukarno's dismissal and trial.21 Several of NU's younger leaders added their voices to the general clamour. One of them, Jusuf Hasyim, a leading Ansor figure, asked that Sukarno's role in the coup be examined and that he be tried just like any other citizen. Subchan lent his support to this position.22 In the following MPRS session in February 1967, young NU radicals close to the army pressed the party's more conservative leaders to commit NU to removing Sukarno and installing Suharto as president. It is important to note that this move came from the NU youth and Was entirely contrary to the personal inclinations of some of their elders. Nevertheless the political climate in early 1967 meant that the senior leadership was under strong pressure to relent. Finally Nuddin Lubis, an NU parliamentarian, moved a resolution calling for the dismissal of Sukarno as president, an inquiry into his role in the failed coup and the election of a new President. Following this another NU politician, Djamaluddin Malik, moved a further resolution proposing that Suharto be the next president. It needs to be pointed out that the initial Lubis resolution represented a major reversal within NU as Lubis initially lacked the firm support of the majority of NU MPs at the time he proposed the resolution.23 Immediately after winning over the support of the parliamentary group, aided greatly by deputy rais am, Kiai Bisri Syansuri, he summoned purnalists to a press conference and deliberately announced the resolution without prior consultation with the NU general-chairman, Idham Chalid.24 Lubis' statement to the press presented

the NU leadership with a fait accompli.25 NU postponed its February congress in Bandung, partly to deny a forum to critics of the resolution, but also to comply with army warnings that security conditions in West Java were still too Uncertain to permit the holding of such a major meeting.26 These NU resolutions brought Suharto to the presidency ad interim, and presented Sukarno with the prospect of a trial (a threat which was never carried out). NU's action in parliament would not have been possible without key developments in the months leading up to the February session. These included Sukarno's continued support for the PKI, his belittling of the army's role in the Revolution, a series of sharp price increases and ongoing student demonstrations. Thus, February 1967 was a turning Point for the pro-army current within NU. This current asserted itself at the very moment when the army appeared to gain decisive ground. In the period that followed, significant hostility towards Sukarno emerged from within NU. The West Java Syuriah (Religious Council) declared that it withdrew the title of Waliyul Amri Dlaruri Bissyaukah. This title, given to him at a 1954 ulama conference, made him the legitimate ruler of Indonesia, a state with a Muslim majority but a secular political system. Duta Masyarakat explained in an editorial that 'a president having a symbolic function required a noble mind, which Bung Karno does not possess.27 Finally the ulama could be clearly seen to have taken sides. The dominance of pro-army elements within NU continued to be evident throughout 1968. During the course of the year Achmad Sjaichu agreed to a controversial 'reform' of parliament which reduced the number of MPs overtly aligned with Islamic concerns to 28%, down from 48% in 1955.28 Sjaichu later explained that he had had the assurance of Suharto that Islamic interests would not be sacrificed in these changes. He recalled that when he voiced his concerns to the president, he was told: 'the kiai are not the only ones to know what is haram (forbidden in Islam) and what is not'.29 A few weeks later, General Suharto was elected full president. Sukarno, at that point under virtual house arrest, died in June 1970. The New Order had been formally legitimated and, in part, it had been done with the assistance of a divided Nahdlatul Ulama. An Insight into the Disagreement Two currents had thus emerged within NU, among not only the top leadership but also among the student leaders. The more conservative of these two currents was closer to Sukarno, the other, more radical current was inclined towards the Armed

Forces. The press talked of there being a dichotomy between NU-ABRI (ABRI is the acronym for the Armed forces) and NUPNI, and also of 'NU-Orba and NU-Orla' (Orba and Orla being the common abbreviations for 'New Order' and 'Old Order' respectively).30 The rais am, Kiai Wahab Chasbullah, was prominent in the pro-Sukarno current, as can be seen from his declaration of June 1966 that Sukarno would be NU's presidential candidate forever.31 By that time, Sukarno's demise was already clear to many politicians, making Kiai Wahab one of the last prominent supporters of the 'Father of the Revolution'. Idham Chalid also expressed his genuine sympathy for the ailing president and visited him in Bogor on several occasions, including after March 1967, when Sukarno was under effective house arrest.32 He reportedly told friends he felt sorry for the lonely former president.33 At the opposite end of the spectrum within NU was Subchan, whose strong commitment to the Armed Forces was lauded in Duta Masyarakat as early as June 1966 in these terms: 'Subchan cleverly and forcefully directed the progressive-revolutionary forces whereas some of our leaders did not dare face the situation and preferred instead simply to wait for the next turn of events'. Again in 1966, Achmad Sjaichu, another leading pro-army figure, strongly expressed the special ties between the army and NU, comparing them to two 'brothers' .34 It should be noted however that the leadership of NU was never entirely united in its political outlook. One good example of this is the situation in 1959, when there was division within NU about whether or not to accept the 'guided democracy' of President Sukarno, which put an end to the liberal democracy of the post-independence years. One NU leader, Imron Rosyadi, joined forces with those resisting Sukarno's move to gain a firmer hold on power, and as a result was imprisoned. At the same time the NU leadership agreed to participate in guided democracy. Several years later, in the period leading up to the events of late 1965, Subchan, who, as we have already noted, was an outspoken anti-communist, tacitly contested Idham Chalid's leadership of NU. The result was a farcical state of affairs in with each of them endeavoured to conduct the business of leading NU from their private homes. (Concerned to ensure that correspondence emanating from their desks was seen to be official, when writing letters each would contact staff in the NU Head Office in order to obtain the 'correct reference number'.) After the events of 30 September 1965 a number of figures within NU were immediately persuaded that Sukarno had no chance of remaining in office because he was seen as too close to the PKI. Many others, however, felt that as 'Father of the

Revolution' Sukarno was simply irreplaceable. The persistence of this pro-Sukarno current can be best understood by briefly examining the history of the close personal relationships between the nationalist leader and some of the senior Nahdlatul Ulama leaders.35 As early as 1940, NU decided that it would push for the election of Sukarno as future president, paradoxically at the very time when he was clearly expressing his sympathy for the secular Ataturk model.36 Many factors are responsible for the special relationship. Of some consequence is the fact that the major NU leaders and the president both came from East Java, speaking the same dialect of Javanese. More importantly though is the fact that Sukarno was a protege of Kiai Wahab's close friend, Tjokroaminoto, leader of Indonesia's first large-scale Muslim association, Sarekat Islam. Sukarno also shared with Kiai Wahab the same taste for Javanese theatre (wayang) and for selamatan (ritual communal feasts). Another common factor was that both were married a number of times. Further strengthening the relationship was the fact that Sukarno allowed Wahab to make use of a number of important business facilities. Within NU, there were also genuine feelings of admiration for the brilliant orator and nationalist leader, to the point where his speeches and writings were studied in a number of pesantren. There was also considerable gratitude felt toward Sukarno on account of his support for the creation of a separate NU political party in 1952. Of greater importance was the strong sentiment of many NU leaders that priority was to be given to stability in government rather than to absolute democracy. Thus, Idham Chalid justified guided democracy by saying that according to Islam it was not necessarily 'the voice of the majority which is always the wisest'. Islam, he went on to say, chose to be guided by 'haq dan ahlinya', i.e., law and its experts.37 The Syuriah leader, Kiai Wahab, was more cautious than the Tanfidziah (Executive Board) chairman, and said that 'a leadership without democracy could only lead to dictatorship while anarchy as well as dictatorship are contrary to democracy'.38 But discussion with older NU politicians seems to indicate that what they objected to most about Guided Democracy was cooperation with the communists rather than the authoritarian system of government itself. In any case, by late 1966 it was clear that the tide had turned and the pro-Sukarno current reluctantly gave in to the new situation. Thus, Idham Chalid boasted in September 1966 that NU was not afraid 'to criticise and be criticised, and when it did criticise Sukarno, it was out of love for him'.39 The army had achieved its aim of having Nahdlatul Ulama contribute to the

rise of the New Order, and in the process had gained a degree of legitimacy. The Deterioration of the Relationship Between NU and the Army In the process of NU assisting the ratification of the New Order regime disagreements arose over the various political institutions that were being established as well as over the place of Islam in the post-Sukarno era. These differences soured the alliance between NU and the army. The Political Question As early as 1966, even before NU had formally proposed Suharto as president, there were signs of the authoritarian inclination of the emerging regime. One draft bill said the press could 'control, criticise and correct' but only in a 'constructive way'.40 One of the first points of conflict between NU and the army was the date for the holding of elections. NU wanted these to be held in 1967; the new government first proposed 1968 and then postponed them until 1971. This gave time for the army to organise its own political vehicle, Golkar. NU also opposed a 1966 plan to reactivate a presidential instruction (Penpres 2/1959) which forbade senior civil servants from joining political parties. As the main source of civil servants for the Ministry of Religious Affairs, NU suffered considerably when a similar measure was later introduced. The most serious threat came from a set of bills on political institutions proposed in November 1966. Anxieties within NU were heightened by one draft bill asking political parties and social organisations to base themselves on the national ideology, Pancasila, and the 1945 Constitution. It also gave the government the power to dissolve political parties whenever they were deemed guilty of 'political misdeeds'.41 The election bill also came under fire from NU. It rejected the 'district system' for legislative elections, whereby the regions would chose candidates rather than a political party. With regions outside Java being less populated, the political weight of Java, NU's stronghold, would decrease. Finally, it objected to a proposal that the army be given 50% of parliamentary seats. NU wanted it to have only 5%.42 It is interesting to note that these parliamentary debates occurred in February 1967, at a time when NU was assisting Suharto's bid to become president through the Lubis and Malik resolutions. The draft bills had already been issued at the end of

1966 and NU knew of their contents at that time. One should recognise here the influence of the Sunnite tradition of government legitimation, with its fear of chaos, in determining NU political strategy. Thus, Kiai Machrus Ali of Kediri said of Suharto at the time of the debates on the new political system, that the future president was like 'dawn after the night'.43 NU intellectuals were not unaware of the threats of an armydominated government, as can be seen in one Duta Masyarakat editorial: 'The people's sovereignty should be applied concretely in laws and should not be a consumption object given in the form of fairy tales'.44 The emergence of two new currents was already evident: a conservative current and a radical anti-army current parallel to the pro-army and pro-Sukarno currents, though not always coinciding. In July 1967, at its Bandung congress, NU began, however, to flex its muscles. It requested early elections, the cancellation of the ban on senior civil servants' membership of political parties, an anti-corruption bill and a more openly anti-Israel foreign policy. Moreover, it complained of the poor economic conditions faced by batik producers in such major textile production areas as Tasikmalaya, West Java, and demanded that these things be borne in mind by the government as it formulated policy.45 Slowly but surely, during the course of 1968, Duta Masyarakat started to become more outspoken, with the proarmy-turned-radical Subchan being more and more often quoted by the conservative daily newspaper. During a meeting of the MPRS in 1968, Subchan opposed the election of Suharto, arguing that he should be elected only after legislative elections as MPs make up half of the Assembly electing the president. Subchan soon became one of the most outspoken opponents of the New Order political system. This climaxed in the 1971 legislative elections when violence erupted between the army and NU sympathisers. The Religious Question The second vexed issue in the relationship between the army and NU during the first years of the New Order was the question of Islam's official role in the Indonesian state and society. The question of the Syari'ah (Islamic Law) and its legislative relationship with the state had been around since the preparation for independence in June 1945. A preliminary agreement had been reached on what was called the 'Jakarta Charter', by which it was suggested that the Constitution require obedience to the Syari'ah from all Indonesian Muslims.46 In August 1945, NU

gave in to pleas by the largely Christian eastern islands, objecting that they would not be part of an Islamic state. The Charter was thus abandoned. The national ideology, Pancasila, made up of five universal principles, including 'belief in one almighty God', made no special reference to Islam.47 But the subject reappeared during the Constituent Assembly debates in 1959. Sukarno unilaterally dissolved the Constituent Assembly after neither Islamic nor secular groups were able to achieve the required twothirds majority. The following compromise was worked out with NU: a return to the 1945 Constitution would be proclaimed while the Jakarta Charter with its reference to the Syari'ah would be recognised as 'inspiring' and 'being at one with' the Constitution. Under the New Order, Pancasila was understood to exclude any ideology, communist or religious. It became the only accepted reference while the Jakarta Charter increasingly became a taboo subject. As early as 1966, the army became worried when the Jakarta Charter began to surface again in Islamic public discourse. During a large street parade held for NU's fortieth anniversary in January 1966, banners were reportedly seen asking for a return to the Charter. I have found no confirmation other than verbal of the presence of such banners and NU says nowadays that if there were any, they were not officially sanctioned. Whatever the case, during the following days, the army-backed press denied NU's alleged support for an Islamic state.48 The fact is that the Jakarta Charter was used as a legitimate reference during these early years of the New Order. Thus, in April 1966, at a meeting of NU's Party Council in Bogor, an official NU announcement said: 'Since the State is founded on Pancasila and the 1945 Constitution, which cannot be separated from the Jakarta Charter, the way is open to implement the party's ideals'. It further said: 'If Pancasila and the 1945 Constitution are applied properly in the life of the state, and if the Jakarta Charter is properly applied in society, the result will be a society in conformity with the party's ideals'.49 Despite this, it seems that NU did not request a revision of the Constitution in favour of the Jakarta Charter, and no longer placed the Charter in opposition to Pancasila as had been done in 1959. Later, at the MPRS meeting of July 1966, NU and Muslim MPs in general asked that the Charter continue to be mentioned in official texts.50 Finally, it was decided that mention would only be made of 'the fact' that the Jakarta Charter had been named in the 1959 presidential decree.51 This amounted to a mild recognition of the Charter. It failed, however, to be mentioned as one of the sources of law. NU had

more success when the MPRS agreed to make religious education compulsory, a unanimous decision aimed at countering communism, which has been seen as a major contribution to the further Islamisation of the archipelago. In 1967, the Charter became the subject of further debate in the press. The fact that NU defended the Charter's legitimacy caused it to be branded 'neo-Darul Islam', after the violent Muslim rebellion in West Java during the late 1940s and 1950s. During MPRS commission discussions, proposals in favour of Islam arose but it is difficult to have a clear picture of the real demands being made by Islamic groups as proceedings were held behind closed doors. The press practised self-censorship and the Charter was steadily becoming a forbidden subject. The ulama adapted to the new situation, insisting on the Charter's legitimacy but avoiding any confrontation between Pancasila and Islam. The Sunnite tradition of compromise was again apparent with a call from Kiai Machrus Ali to 'Keep away from actions or words that can provoke anger among other people. According to Islamic law, any action that can disturb the society's order is a major sin that will be judged by God'.52 Another conflict emerged between the secular and Islamic forces when a draft bill on marriage for Muslims was heartily supported by the Ministry of Religious Affairs, an NU stronghold as we have seen. The draft bill took the Jakarta Charter as a reference and proposed that 'laws in accordance with the Muslim Syari'ah could be issued especially for Muslims'. 53 This draft bill was quickly rejected by secular and non-Muslim groups as opening the way to a juridical dualism. The controversy over the Charter intensified in 1968, and one can wonder whether this intensification was not tied to the political parties' increased marginalisation by the army's inroads into Indonesian politics. NU, together with other Islamic groups, wanted the Charter mentioned and thus legalised by the MPRS as part of the Broad Policy Guidelines (GBHN). Furthermore, Islamic groups wanted the definition of human rights to ban religious conversions (ganti agama). Having elected Suharto full president, the MPRS finished its sessions without making any decision on the Charter and the human rights questions, and the Armed Forces opposed the continuation of the debates.54 NU protested vehemently. Nuddin Lubis lashed out at Catholics and sections of the functional groups which he said were 'without roots in society [and] which did everything to see to it that the commission works be rejected'.55 A few days later, on 8 April, Suharto summoned the four Islamic parties, and asked them to agree among themselves on the meaning of the Charter. A commission directed by Prawoto Mangkusasmito, a former

Masyumi leader, was given the task of elaborating a common vision. Kiai Masykur represented NU in that commission.56 The anniversary of the Charter on 22 June was commemorated with a plethora of declarations. Duta Masyarakat published a statement of the commemoration committee signed by the Pemuda Mahasiswa dan Pelajar Islam Pusat (PMPI), an association of youth Muslim organisations which included Ansor. It said, amongst other things: 'The implementation of the Syari'ah does not mean that Indonesia would be an Islamic state. The Syari'ah brings divine grace and happiness for the Nation and its people on earth and in heaven'.57 The second point of the statement read: 'the obligation of religious practice (ibadah) reinforces morals and character and is thus more powerful than appeals and exhortations.' This apologetic declaration seemed to imply the ****** 1. During the Second World War, after an initial period of strained relations with Nahdlatul Ulama, the Japanese cleverly courted Islam by the establishment of the Shumubu. This cooperation led to the creation of a national Islamic Council, Masyumi, which later became the largest Islamic political party. 2 Several medieval Sunni thinkers have tried to bring constitutional theory into line with political reality, the chief concern being to Preserve Islam and its law through political concessions. With the argument that disorder and chaos are more dangerous than tyranny or injustice, legitimation could be given to a strong sultan, even if he were a despot. Thus, if one is to conform exclusively to just orders, al-Ghazali (1058-1111) asked: 'Shall we stop obeying the laws? Shall we revoke the kadis? (...) Shall we let the people live in sin? Or shall we continue, recognising that what is inanimate actually exists, that all administrative acts remain valid, given the circumstances and the necessities of the moment?' (in G.E. von Grunebaum, L'lslam medieval, Payot, Paris, 1962: p. 185). Al-Mawardi and al-Baqillani have also influenced NU'S political thinking. 3 On this, see Hughes 1967, Walkin 1969 and Cribb 1990. This conflict had in fact began sporadically in the early 1960s when Muslim landowners resisted PKI-inspired campaigns to force land reforms. 4 Refer to Cribb 1990: 26; Hughes 1967:154; and Crouch 1979:152. 5 Interview with Chalid Mawardi, an Ansor delegate present at the meeting (1991). The fact-finding commission was appointed by President Sukarno at the end of December 1965. It estimated that 54,000 had been killed in East Java alone. The number of victims was minimised, however,

and the commonly accepted estimate was between 250,000 and 500,000 People killed across the archipelago (Crouch 1978:155-156). 6 Crouch 1978:97. There are several theories on the origins of the coup. The official lndonesian version has it that the coup was the work of the PKI, a version contested by Ben Anderson and Ruth McVey from Cornell university. Scholars have been debating in favour or against one Or the other theory. Although it seems clear that there was indeed some PKI involvement, the extent of it remains uncertain. 7 Interview with Moenasir, 3 December 1994. 8 Interview with Syah Manaf, 1991. Present at the meeting were Kiai Masykur, a member of the NU's supreme religious council, the Syuriah, Idham Chalid, the Tanfidziah chairman, and Syaf Manaf, from NU's political bureau. Moenasir confirmed such a mandate was given to Subchan but was unaware of the time and place it was given to him (Interview, 3 December 1994). 9 Interview with Syah Manaf, 1991. 10 'Pernyataan pujuk pimpinan gerakan Pemuda Ansor', signed by Jahja Ubaied, its president, and by Chalid Mawardi (National archives, Jakarta). The list of Revolutionary Council members was drawn up without consultation and most nominees denied having any knowledge of it (Crouch 1979: 98). 11 Interview with Mrs. Asmah Sjachruni, a senior NU leader, 1991. The NU leaders named were: KH Fattah Yasin, A. M. Eahman, Jahya Ubaied and Mahmudah Mawardi from the Muslimat. signed by the chairman, H. A· 12 'Instruksi 3 Oktober, PP GP Ansor', Chamid Wijaya (National Archives, Jakarta). 13 Berita Yudha, 5 October 1965. 14 General Nasution passed on a letter to Idham Chalid explaining the situation and expressing his thankfulness in advance for a firm position from NU (Interview with KH M. Moenasir, 3 December 1994). 15 Duta Masyarakat, 7 October 1965. I have found no trace of the original Statement, which could have confirmed that it was actually_ made as early BS 1 October. Moreover, the national radio station was in the hands of the September Movement leaders until 1 October at 7 p.m. 16 Ibid. Berita Yudha, 6 October 1965, published the entire statement

bearing the date of 5 October. 17 Interview With Jusuf Hasyim, 1992. 18 Idham Chalid could not be found prior to the cabinet meeting. Knowing that he would attend the Bogor meeting, a student was sent to Bogor to Obtain his signature. (Interview with H. Moenasir, 2 December 1994). 19 'Surat PBNU, Pedoman Politik Pemberitaan Harian NU', 14 October 1965, sent to five media outlets (National Archives, Jakarta). 20 Kesatuan Aksi Mahasiswa Indonesia, the students' action front, organised major demonstrations, bringing an important contribution, coordination with the army, to the destabilisation of the Old Order.

in

21 Refer to Crouch 1978: 212. 22 Duta Masyarakat, 11 January 1967. 23 He acted with the understanding and backing of the army. 24 This parliamentary session of 9 February ended at 1 am. One hour called a press conference.

later, Lubis

25 Interview With Nuddin Lubis, 1991. 26 Interview with Nuddin Lubis, August 1991. 27 Duta Masyarakat, 10 March 1967 28 Angkatan Baru, 21 March 1968; and Ward 1968:42. 29 Sjaichu 1991:69. 30 Duta Masyarakat, 5 April, 29 May, 3 July and 11 July 1967. 31 Antara, 7 June 1966. 32 After the MPRS session of March 1967, Sukarno remained in his palaces but it soon apparent that he was under virtual house arrest. In May 1967, he was no longer allowed to use his titles (Crouch 1978: 220). 33 Interview with General Nasution, 1991. 34 Duta Masyarakat, 13 August 1966.

35 It is important to note that the NU was politically dominated by just a few senior leaders, those interested in politics, be they from the Tanfidziah (Executive Board) like Idham Chalid or from the Syuriah like Kiai Bisri. It was a top-down organisation and the mass membership had little impact on every day decisions. 36 See Berita Nahdlatoel Ulama, Surabaya, 1 July 1940, p. 8/225, about NU's reaction to Sukarno's defence of Kemal Ataturk. On Sukarno's choice as future president, see Anam 1985: 112. 37 Speech called 'Islam dan Demokrasi Terpimpin', given at PTI NU, Fakultas Hukum Islam where Idham was teacher (dosen luar biasa). 38 Zuhri 1987: 475. 39 Duta Masyarakat, 21 September 1966. 40 Duta Masyarakat, 12 November 1966. 41 Duta Masyarakat, 24 February 1967. 42 Duta Masyarakat, 24 March 1967. On the new political system put into place by the New Order, see Feith 1968. 43 Duta Masyarakat, 9 March 1967. 44 Duta Masyarakat, 22 February 1967. 45 Duta Masyarakat, 14 July 1967. 46 The famous phrase agreed upon on 22 June 1945 and known as the Jakarta Charter is: 'Belief in God with the obligation for Muslims to implement the Syari'ah in accordance with a just humanity'. It was clear what it exactly meant or how the obligation would be carried out. 47 In the months preceding independence in 1945, Sukarno proposed the five universal principles of Pancasila (belief in God, nationalism, humanitarianism, democracy and social justice). Any reference to a religion was avoided in order to create unity in this diverse nation. Sukarno's main argument was that, if]slam was indeed the majority religion, Parliament would issue laws in conformity with Islam. 48 Berita Yudha and Angkatan Bersenjata, 31 January 1966. 49 Antara, 16 April 1966.

never

50 Nugroho 1985:38. 51 'TAP XX/MPRS/1966 tentang memorandum DPR-GR mengenai sumbertertib hukum Republik Indonesia dan Tata Urutan Peraturan Perundang RI'. 52 Duta Masyarakat, 9 March 1967. 53 'Pendjelasan mengenai Undang Undang tentang Pokok-pokok peraturan pernikahan umat islam. Pendjelasan Umum', artikel 2-4. 54 Nasution 1989, jilid 8:105-106. 55 Duta Masyarakat, 3 April 1968. 56 Interview with Lukman Harun of the Muhammadiyah, January 1993. 57 Duta Masyarakat, 22 June 1966. idea of obligation without, however, setting out precisely how it would be enforced. The Ministry of Religious Affairs gave assurances that the Charter would not harm non-Muslims, but there was no answer to those Muslims whose practice and knowledge of Islam was minimal.58 As NU controlled the Ministry of Religious Affairs, NU would, of course, be a determining factor in the debate. The minister, KH M. Dachlan, made a declaration that the Charter was indeed 'a source of law', a declaration used by modernist Islam to strengthen support for the Charter. Later, in August, Dachlan called those who 'betrayed' the Charter 'hypocrites'. As early as June 1968, the government had reacted by asking civil servants not to attend Jakarta Charter commemoration ceremonies. A PMPI celebration was also refused authorisation by the army.59 The Catholic youth group, Angkatan Muda Katolik, sent a memorandum to President Suharto rejecting a ministerial decision that described one of the tasks of the Ministry of Religious Affairs as 'applying the Jakarta Charter in its relationship with the Constitution'. 60 It suggested that the Ministry be disbanded altogether. It was only under government pressure that the debate subsided. As the aformentioned political parties' commission had not succeeded in elaborating a common definition of the Charter, the army urged them to stop their efforts, arguing that tensions would be exacerbated at a moment when the New Order's stability was still fragile.61 Ibrahim Hosen, a law specialist, was quoted in a widely read Muslim magazine as saying

that the Charter was 'a necessity for law uniformisation, but did not constitute an effort to enforce the application of the Syari'ah'.62 I have found few declarations indicating exactly what NU understood to be implied in the Jakarta Charter. KH Dachlan said the Charter would allow government intervention to ensure that the zakat and Muslim marriage customs be respected.63 This gives a rather limited scope to the Charter, not interfering with religious practices or the law in general. NU never officially stated its understanding of the Charter, and most texts on it quoted by Duta Masyarakat were from non-NU or joint organisations' circles. Given the diversity of thought within NU, there is reason to believe that there would, in fact, have been no agreement on the scope of the Charter. There was never any official ban of the Jakarta Charter but from then on, any contentious reference to it was avoided. This is not to say that the Suharto government was opposed to Islamic concerns. On the contrary, it accepted such arrangements as the one that saw zakat being imposed on civil servants, collected by a foundation, Yayasan Amal Bakti Muslimin Pancasila, but not formalised in law. There were other sore points, including the suppression of substantial subsidies for the hajj. NU also disapproved of the government's laxity toward prostitution, pornography and gambling. It was most of all worried at new inroads apparently made by Christianity in Sumatra and Java in the early years of the New Order-one of the consequences of the 1966 MPRS decision to make religious education compulsory and to ban atheism.64 Thus, it is clear that the two 'brothers'-NU and the armyhad developed into awkward partners. Despite army resistance, some ulama wanted the Jakarta Charter recognised while NU politicians wanted a greater degree of democracy which they believed would bring about a larger representation for NU in Parliament. But NU was in a difficult position: representing the government through the Minister of Religious Affairs, it had to go against its own values and interests and protect all five officially recognised faiths. It also had to defend the suppression of subsidies for the hajj, and appeal for tolerance. Such appeals were controversial at a time when Muslims were resentful of what they saw as unprecedented competition from Christians. Kiai Dachlan's speeches reveal how he oscillated from a compromising stance to a fierce defence of Islam. In a speech in May 1968, he repeated Suharto's recent statement that there was 'neither majority nor minority in religion, and there was 'neither legitimate nor illegitimate children', clearly protecting the minority religions.65 But in January 1969, Dachlan went as far as declaring that: 'If the faithful of other religions attack the

Muslims and soil its purity, then the Muslim community has to face this challenge with the same approach in obedience to Allah, and if necessary, has to take arms to preserve the purity of its religion." He made this statement at a time when several incidents had recently occurred between the Muslim and Christian communities in 1967 and 1968.67 The final stage of open conflict between the army and NU was the legislative elections which took place in 1971. The army-backed Golkar, now competing as a political party, had succeeded in attracting a few ulama, some of whom were so ostracised later that they were almost banished from their communities.68 Among those who crossed over were members of the great NU families from Jombang, East Java, like KH A. Karim Hasyim, one of the sons of Kiai Hasyim Asy'ari. It is not my purpose here to describe Golkar's inroads into the Islamic organisation, but it is important to note that those within NU who did not yet see the army as rivals were soon convinced of it during the election campaign when intimidation became commonplace. Subchan warned that NU had 'abandoned its sarong in order to be able to run faster than Golkar'.69 Ken Ward has rightly pointed to the fact that Golkar's expansion and its methods had forced NU to play a role it always had avoided: the role of an opposition.70 As we have seen, this role can be traced back as early as 1966. NU's attitude of accommodation toward the communistfriendly Old Order had turned into a new opposition against the army-dominated New Order. Subchan had been a prominent figure during both periods. But here again, there was a conservative current. Idham Chalid appealed to NU sympathisers to 'increase participation and cooperation with government agencies' and to make the elections 'a success', a formula implying relative support for the new regime.71 In the face of contradictory statements coming from NU, Kiai Masykur had to intervene to dispell suggestions of confrontation within the organisation. According to him, Idham Chalid and Subchan were only 'managing two different fields'.72 With 18.67% of the total vote in 1971, NU performed well (improving on 18.4% of the vote gained in 1955), but it did poorly compared to Golkar's 62.8%. It felt distressed by the results. Indeed, there had been predictions within NU that political parties would gather as much as 85% of the votes and that Golkar would come third after NU and the PNI. The disappointments did not stop, however, with the 1971 election results. The next blow came when the Ministry of Religious Affairs was removed from NU's control. The new minister was Mukti Ali, a professor of comparative theology and a modernist

Muslim with no particular ties to any established organisation. The government expected that he would put an end to the Ministry of Religious Affairs being seen as 'a state within the state', something frequently asserted by its critics. In 1971, the Ministry Religious Affairs had refused to apply new legislation regarding monoloyalitas or the 'moral obligation' for civil servants to join and vote for Golkar. A consequence of 1971's manifold disappointments was the expansion of an anti-Subchan current within NU. This current was strengthened by the ill fortune of the revived Masyumi, Partai Muslimin Indonesia. It was subject to tight government control and interference, a disconcerting development for NU which had been unaccustomed to government intervention in its internal affairs.73 In January 1972, after the death of Kiai Wahab Chasbullah, Subchan was dismissed from NU's executive board. Many observers have seen in this dismissal the hand of the army manipulating power conflicts within NU. But the official letter announcing Subchan's resignation would seem to indicate that this decision was due largely to traditional Sunni anti-radicalist sentiment. One reason mentioned is that NU wanted to choose 'the way of the middle', away 'from extremes and away from western or oriental political practices'.74 Abdurrahman Wahid, grandson of NU's founder Hasjim Asj'ari and of Kiai Bisri Syansuri (who was made the new rais am after the death of Kiai Wahab), was quoted at that time explaining Subchan's dismissal in the following terms: 'Pressures will be stronger from the government against NU, the effect of which will be to isolate NU from the mainstream, the main current of Indonesian politiCs'.75 This sentence has a prophetic ring today when one knows how NU activities suffered from the authorities' distrust during the 1970s.76 It is essential to note that the Sunni tradition of government legitimation was not the only current of political thought evident in the 1971 context. Subchan was defended by major ulama such as Kiai Ali Ma'sum of Krapyak, Kiai As'ad Syamsul Arifin of Situbondo, and by many regional branches, who had put their hope in this dynamic, educated and cosmopolitan politician. With the dismissal of Subchan and then his accidental death in Mecca in 1973, NU moved closer to the mainstream, but remained for more than ten years the army's main critic in Parliament. Pushed by sharpened rivalry with the army, NU could not relent in its battle despite the Sunni tradition of moderation. In conclusion, we can see that NU was not a monolithic organisation in the early New Order period, but rather an association of ulama and individuals with greatly differing

backgrounds and widely divergent interests. This resulted in constant debates among the small circle of people controlling the party, who disagreed over how far NU should go in defending its interests without risking a political backlash. The Lubis resolution in February 1967 committed NU to Suharto's cause despite a hesitant leadership, and Subchan was dismissed in 1972 in a kind of peace pact with the army, regardless of strong support for his radicalism even among the ulama. Some NU leaders nowadays speculate that NU would have fared better if the radical current led by Subchan had been less influential. But Subchan was merely articulating a current of dissatisfaction, whose sources were numerous: while the army was increasingly dominating the political institutions, the more religious members were themselves uneasy at the way in which the Jakarta Charter was pushed aside, this unease was also exacerbated by the phenomena of widespread conversions to Christianity. In any case, the major changes taking place in the post-Sukarno period could hardly have occurred without a significant degree of pain. Subchan's influence increased as the dissatisfaction grew, but was held in check by the traditional Sunni concern with avoiding chaos at any price. Despite the 'peace pact', the relationship with the army remained at best uneasy in the 1970s. This awkward relationship improved somewhat after 1984 when NU decided to 'withdraw from politics', that is to stop giving its exclusive support to the Partai Persatuan Pembangunan, the sole Muslim political party into which all Muslim parties had to merge in 1973. From then on, under the umbrella of the armed forces and the government, the movement started to prosper again, enjoying more facilities for what mattered most for the ulama: to preserve Islam through preaching and education.77 References Anam, Choirul 1985, Pertumbuhan dan Perkembangan Nahdlatul Ulama, Jatayu Sala, Solo. Boland, B. J. 1971, The Struggle of lslam in Modern Indonesia, Verhandlingen van het Koningklik Vorr Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, The Hague. Cribb, R. (ed.) 1990, The Indonesian Killings: Studies from Java and Pall, 1965-1966, Monash Papers on Southeast Asia, No.21, Centre of Southeast Asian Studies, Monash University, Melbourne.

Crouch, H. 1978, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, N.Y. Feillard A. 1993, 'Les Oulemas Indonesians Aujourd'hui: De I'Opposition 9 Une Nouvelle Legitimite', Archipel, no.46, pp.89-110. Feith, H. 1968, 'Suharto's Search for a Political Format', Indonesia, Ithaca, pp.88-105. Grunebaum, G.E. von 1962, L 'Islam medieval, Editions Payot, Paris. Jones, S. 1984,'The Contraction and Expansion of the "Umat" and the Role of the Nahdlatul Ulama in Indonesia', Indonesia, no.38, pp.1-20. Hughes, J. 1967, The End of Sukarno: A Coup that misfired, a Purge that Ran Wild, Angus and Robertson, London. Nasution, A.H. 1989, Memenuhi panggilan tugas: masa pemancangan Orde Pembangunan, jilid 8, Masagung, Jakarta. Nugroho, N. 1985, Tercapainya Konsensus Nasional 19661969, PN Balai Pustaka, Jakarta. Sjaichu, A. 1991, Kembali ke Pesantren: Kenangan 70 tahun KH Achmad Sjaichu, Yayasan Islam al Hamidiyah, Jakarta. Walkin, J. 1969,'The Moslem-Communist Confrontation in East Java 1964-1965', Orbis, pp.822-847. Ward, K. 1971, 'The Foundation of the Partai Muslimin Indonesia', Indonesia, pp.37-47. ---1974, The 1971 Election in Indonesia: An East Java Case Study, Monash Papers on Southeast Asia, no.2, Monash University, Melbourne. Zuhri, S. 1987, Berangkat dari Pesantren, Gunung Agung, Jakarta. ******* 58 Duta Masyarakat, 24 June 1968. 59 Nasution, jilid 8, 1989:105-106.

60 Ward 1968:46. 61 Interview with former intelligence chief, Sutopo Yuwono, 1991. 62 Kiblat, 8, XVI, p.33. 63 Kiblat, 3, XVI, 1968, p. 6. 64 Boland 1971:231. The Assembly introduced compulsory religious education from primary school to university. The aim was to create purely 'Pancasilaist citizen' (manusia pantjasilais sedjati) (Decision TAP MPRS XXVII/1966, chapter I, article 1). Every Indonesian had to profess one of the five officially recognised religions: Islam, Catholicism Protestantism, Buddhism and Hinduism. 65 Speech of 11 May 1968, published in Kiblat, 4, XVI, p. 32, 1968. 66 'Pendjelasan Humas Departemen Agama mengenai Toleransi Agama', published in full in Duta Masyarakat, 3 March 1969. 67 Clashes between Muslims and Christians took place in several Indonesian cities, including Makassar in October 1967 (following a Protestant clergyman's alleged criticism of Allah and polygamy) and Island in 1968, where there was a massive exodus of Christians. 68 See Jones 1984 on the subject. 69 Analis, 20 June 1971. 70 Refer to: Ward 1984:110. 71 Angkatan Bersendjata, 18 June 1971. 72 Duta Masyarakat, 23 June 1971. 73 On this, see Ward 1970. 74 'Pendjelasan tentang Keputusan P.B. Syuriah NU tentang Pembebasan JTH Sdr. H.M. Subchan Z.E. dari Kepengurusan PBNU' (Personal archive of Asnawi Latief). 75 Kompas, 25 February 1972. 76 On this, see my article in Archipel 46, Feillard 1993.

in Banjak

77 I have shown how beneficial the 1984 decision had been in education and missionary activities in Feillard 1993. Chapter Three The Radical Traditionalism of the Nahdlatul Ulama in Indonesia: A Personal Account of the 26th National Congress, June 1979, Semarang* Mitsuo Nakamura Introduction: An Apparent Paradox of the Nahdlatul Ulama The Nahdlatul Ulama (literally, 'The Awakening of Islamic Scholars') is one of the oldest Islamic religious organisations in Indonesia. It was established in 1926 as an association of ulama, i.e., Islamic scholars and teachers, as well as ordinary Muslims who followed strictly the Sunni orthodoxy of Islam.1 After a half-century's history, the Nahdlatul Ulama, or the NU as it is commonly abbreviated, is reported to have grown to be the largest of all Islamic religious organisations or, for that matter, of all non-governmental organisations in Indonesia today in terms of membership and organisational strength.2 I had the opportunity of attending the 26th National Congress of the Nahdlatul Ulama held in the city of Semarang, the provincial capital of Central Java, for seven days from the 5-11 June 1979. My experience with the NU prior to this occasion was not only meagre but somewhat biased. I first came into contact with some NU members while I was doing anthropological field work in the Central Javanese town of Kotagede from 1970 to 1972.3 The NU in the town was, however, rather insignificant in its size and influence, for it was over-shadowed by the Muhammadiyah, the so-called reformist rival of the NU, which dominated the religious sphere of the town. Doctrinal and organisational conflicts between the Nahdlatul Ulama and the Muhammadiyah coloured part of the pre-War history of the town, as they did elsewhere. But these conflicts were already things of the past and the NU itself was regarded as largely irrelevant by most of the Muhammadiyah members, who made up a large portion of the informants for my study. In this situation, I did not feel any disagreement with a characterisation of the Nahdlatul Ulama widespread among Western students of Indonesia that it was the organisation of old and old-fashioned ulama in the countryside of Java who were religiously traditional, intellectually unsophisticated, politically

opportunistic, and culturally syncretic.4 In other words, I did not think much of the NU as a subject of study. Yet several developments during the 1970s have since aroused my curiosity about the Nahdlatul Ulama. Politically, the NU has emerged as the boldest and most defiant critic of the New Order government.5 The NU has not only withstood the merciless onslaught of the government upon the existence of any social forces independent of it but has even developed broad criticism of the development strategy of the current regime.6 There are emerging from among the NU circles a number of young intellectuals who are seeking alternative development inspired by Islamic social ethics.7 Young, well educated ulama and 'layactivists' are growing as a new leadership of the NU at all levels of its organisation. The stereotype of the NU as 'a gerontocratic organisation of opportunistic and unsophisticated rustic ulama seems to have become less appropriate in view of the reality of the NU today, if indeed, it ever was justifiable. Religiously, however, the NU's traditionalism seems to have remained intact. It proudly calls itself ahlus sunnah wal jama'ah, 'the people of the Sunna (the tradition of the Prophet Muhammad) and of the community,' and its members remain strict followers of the Sunni tradition. It treasures the institution of pondok-pesantren, the rural Islamic boarding school, where the traditional scholarship of ulama is maintained, transmitted, and regenerated.8 Hence I was puzzled by the paradox of political radicalism and religious traditionalism within the recent developments of the Nahdlatul Ulama. I was also curious about whether this paradox had anything to do with the organisational strength of the NU. So I attended the 26th congress of the NU held in Semarang full of curiosity and hoping to learn as much as possible about the organisation first-hand. The experience I gained at the NU congress met these expectations. Most importantly, I realised that there was only an apparent paradox in the conjunction of political radicalism and religious traditionalism within the NU. In fact, what I had seen as a paradox was illusory, caused primarily by a prejudice in my own perception that radicalism could not co-exist with traditionalism. The fact of the matter is, however, not that the NU is becoming politically radical despite its religious traditionalism but that it is becoming politically radical precisely because of its religious traditionalism. It seems, therefore, no contradiction to talk about the radical traditionalism of the Nahdiatul Ulama. The key to resolving this apparent paradox seems to lie in an understanding of the organisational features of the NU as an Islamic religious association of the Sunni tradition. I would like to expand this point in the rest of my paper as

follows: in Section II ,which immediately follows, I shall present an account of my personal observation of the NU congress; in Section III, I shall develop, on the basis of my observations, some points of analysis and interpretation of what I call the radical traditionalism of the NU; and finally, in Section IV, J shall conclude this paper with a few remarks on the study of religion and politics. Field Observation: The Militancy of Local Delegates I spent most of the seven-day period of the NU congress attending and observing its plenary sessions and commission meetings and I mingled with local delegates as much as possible by eating, talking, staying, sleeping, bathing, and commuting to and from the congress with them in the same accommodation and facilities provided by the congress organisers.9 I learned so many new things within that very short period of seven days that it is still difficult for me to present a comprehensive picture of what took place at the congress.10 Certainly, this NU congress was conspicuous for one feature, that is, the militancy on the floor of the local delegates vis-a-vis the central leadership. As far as I know, all reports on the congress in the Indonesian mass media unfailingly mentioned this fact.11 It seemed to me, then, that the appreciation of the significance of this phenomenon of local militancy might lead us to an understanding of the congress and of the NU as a whole. Therefore, I have focussed on this aspect of the congress, at the expense of others, in representing a brief account of my observations in this section.12 The Reports of the Central Executive Council The first half of the seven-day congress was spent in what may be termed a grand dialogue between the Central Executive Council and the local delegates of the NU in discussing the former's performance since the last national congress held in Surabaya eight years earlier. First, the congress heard the 'reports of responsibility' (laporan pertanggung-jawaban) presented by Idham Chalid, the general chairman and the Achmad Sjaichu, a chairman of the Central Executive Council, Tanfidziah.13 They were followed by the presentation of responses and views from the local delegates, in geographic order with a set limit of time for each speaker. Then the Central Executive Council took its turn again and replied to the local delegates. Finally, the congress made a decision on whether to accept the reports of the Central Executive Council.

In reviewing the past performance of the Central Executive Council, Jdham Chalid covered general, external and political aspects, while Achmad Sjaichu covered internal, organisational and business aspects. In their respective reports, both Idham Chalid and Achmad Sjaichu emphasised the fact that the period of eight years since the last congress had been full of challenges, difficulties, and even threats to the very existence of the NU. There had been a major modification in the organisation, i.e., the relinquishment of its political activities to the newly formed Development Unity Party, or PPP, and the reaffirmation of its status as a religious association. This change had caused a lot of sadness, disappointment and even anger from within and without the organisation. But, in the end, the NU had survived the ordeal. 'Alhamdulillah, we thank God, the Compassionate,' exclaimed Idham Chalid, 'that we have survived and we have returned to the status of the NU prior to 1952 in original quality but in much larger quantities (dalam kwalitas yang asli tetapi dalam kwantitas yang lebih besar). We are to consolidate ourselves through this congress. After the phase of consolidation, we will be able to hope for continuous growth in the future' (Idham Chalid 1979]. The Response of the Local Delegates To an outside observer like myself, the reports by the two leaders sounded reasonable. Therefore, I was surprised to observe that their reports were severely criticised by the overwhelming majority of the local delegates who occupied the podium for the following two full days to present their responses. Altogether, about 40 speakers presented the views of the local branches. Some common points of criticism which emerged from their speeches included the following: (a) the Central Executive Council was not active in representing and defending local branches which had been faced with extreme pressures from the outside, pressures which in some cases had led to the point of physical extinction, especially during the two general election periods of 1971 and 1977; (b) the Central Executive Council was secretive about its own activities vis-a-vis the local branches, especially with regard to aid and grants received from Muslim countries overseas; and (c) the format of the reports of the Central Executive Council was inadequate in that the program adopted at the 25th Surabaya Congress was not used to evaluate its performance. Besides these points of substance, more characteristic still was the tone of outright defiance of the authority of the Central Executive Council expressed in the speeches of a number of the

local delegates. They asserted that the NU's survival owed very little to the Central Executive Council but a great deal to the efforts of the local branches. The local branches were entitled to exercise their sovereignty: 'If there are no local branches, the central leadership will not exist (Kalau tidak ada cabang, tidak akan ada PB [Pengurus Besar, lit. Big Management])'-a delegate from Jakarta shouted in the face of the Central Executive Council. 'The sovereignty of the local branches (kedaulatan cabang) should be the order of the day'-many other delegates echoed the slogan of the Jakarta delegate. Some of them asserted determinedly: 'We should make a clean sweep of those irresponsive and irresponsible elements when we have the election of a new leadership in this congress.' 'Rats called politicians (tikus-tikus yang disebut politikus) must get out of the NU leadership from now on,' a delegate from West Sumatra boldly proclaimed, and received sympathetic applause from many of his colleagues on the floor. All but a few speakers expressed some degree of criticism of the Central Executive Council. Speakers from East, West and Central Java, the areas providing the largest numbers of delegates, were the most vocal in denouncing the performance of the Central Executive Council over the past eight years.14 They simply and clearly stated that they were not able to accept the reports of the Central Executive Council: tidak dapat menerima sama sekali laporan pertanggung-jawaban PB. The reply of the Central Executive Council When the speeches by the local delegates were finally over, towards the end of the fourth day, it was then the turn of Idham Chalid and Achmad Sjaichu to respond to these storms of criticism. In giving their replies, the two leaders again spoke separately. And in responding to the local delegates' criticisms, they performed remarkably differently. Idham Chalid did not attempt to defend himself or the Central Executive Council. Instead, he completely surrendered to the critics. He stated that he was responsible for all the mistakes the Central Executive Council had committed and he could only beg for the forgiveness of the delegates (minta ma'af sebesarbesarya). He praised the militancy of the local delegates in criticising the central leadership. He said that he was very proud to see that democracy was vigorously alive in the NU, a genuine kind of democracy which would be hard to find anywhere else in Indonesia. In concluding this reply, he expressed the hope that the new leadership would learn from the old leadership's mistakes, including his own, and be able to avoid any repetition

of similar errors. I felt as if I had been watching a show of magic, for Idham Chalid's straightforward 'forgive me' (minta ma'af speech received long enthusiastic applause from the floor, and thus his authority was obviously re-established. In contrast, Achmad Sjaichu tried to fight back against the criticisms of the local delegates by explaining in detail particular actions of the Central Executive Council. For example, he said that the scholarship aid from Saudi Arabia had indeed arrived and had already been distributed to a number of pesantren which met the academic standards and qualifications specified by the donor; however, a public announcement about this scholarship program had not been made for fear of an indiscriminate rush of applications from a large number of unqualified pesantren.15 When Achmad Sjaichu ended his speech of self-defence, only weak applause was heard.16 The Election of the New Leadership The contrast between Idham Chalid and Achmad Sjaichu in terms of their respective performance in response to the criticisms from the local delegates during the first half of the congress was very obvious and seemed to forecast their later performance in the election of the new leadership which became the climax of the second half of the congress. In the election held on the seventh and last day of the congress, those two leaders competed for the position of general chairman of the Central Executive Council, Tanfidziah. Idham Chalid, who had begged for the forgiveness of the local delegates, defeated Achmad Sjaichu by a two to one majority in popular ballots from the floor. Achmad Sjaichu thereafter completely withdrew from the national leadership of the NU. Analysis and Interpretation of Field Information In this section, I would like to delineate, first of all, some structural features of the NU organisation as background information for the interpretation of my field observation presented in the previous section. Then I shall proceed to analyse and interpret my field information in three sub-sections as follows: (a) the significance of the reports by the Central Executive Council; (b) 'central' vs. 'local' in the NU organisation; and (c) the implications of personal rivalry between Idham Chalid and Achmad Sjaichu and the outcome of their electoral contest. Finally, I shall conclude this section with a general discussion of what I call the radical traditionalism of the Nahdlatul Ulama.

The Structural Features of the NU Organisation In the introduction of this paper I stated that the Nahdlatul Uiama adheres to the orthodoxy of Sunni which, according to its followers, goes back to the tradition of the Prophet Muhammad himself and has been transmitted through unbroken chains of ulama to this day (sanad). In the NU circles the ulama are regarded and respected as the most learned and most reliable interpreters of the Qur'an, the Message of God, and of the Sunna, the records of the deeds and words of the Prophet Muhammad. The ulama are the most authentic guides for the faithful to follow in pursuing a religiously righteous way of life. The ulama are, therefore, called the primary pillar, tiang utama, of the community of the faithful, umat (Achmad Siddiq 1979:13] The ulama are thus the spiritual leaders of the faithful. But they are not clergymen, for Islam does not know ecclesiastical orders. The social standing of an ulama depends on the respect he commands from his local community as well as on the consensual recognition he receives from among a wide network of his ulama colleagues. He is, therefore, himself the ultimate unit of authority and autonomy. The NU is essentially a horizontal confederation or collegial alliance of such autonomous ulama, not a monolithic, centralised hierarchy. The organisational structure of the Nahdlatul Ulama seems to embody well those two aspects of the Sunni tradition described above, i.e. (a) the spiritual leadership of the ulama vis-a-vis the community of the faithful, and (b) the collegial solidarity among the ulama. From the central to the local levels of the NU organisation, the structure of the leadership at each level is characterised by the presence of the two tiers of councils, i.e., the religious council, Syuriah, and the executive council, Tanfidziah (see Fig. 1). The religious councils consist exclusively of the ulama and occupy a superior position of legislative and supervisory function over the executive councils, which consist of both the ulama and 'lay-activists' and are in charge of dayto-day affairs. An official document of the NU defines the two councils as follows: Syuriah is the highest leadership (pimpinan tertinggi) which functions to develop (membina), guide (membimbing), direct(mengarah), and supervise (mengawasi) the activities of the Nahdlatul Ulama. Tanfidziah is the daily executor (pelaksana sehari-hari) [Nahdlatul Ulama 1979a: 17]. Figure 1: Leadership Structure of the Nahdlatul Ulama

=============================================================== ========= Administrative Levels Leadership Levels -----------------------------------------------------------------------Centre Religious Council (Syuriah) Pengurus (Pusat) Executive Council (Tanfidziah) Besar (PB) -----------------------------------------------------------------------Province Religious Council (Syuriah) Pengurus (Propinsi) Executive Council (Tanfidziah) Wilayah -----------------------------------------------------------------------Regency/Municipality Religious Council (Syuriah) Pengurus (Kabupaten/ Executive Council (Tanfidziah) Cabang Kotamadya) -----------------------------------------------------------------------Subdistrict Religious Council (Syuriah) Pengurus Majelis (Kecamatan) Executive Council (Tanfidziah) Wakil Cabang -----------------------------------------------------------------------Village Religious Council (Syuriah) Pengurus (Desa/Kelurahan) Executive Council (Tanfidziah) Ranting =============================================================== ========= Source: Nahdlatul Ulama[1979a: 17-18] The principle of collegial solidarity among the ulama is reflected in the ways by which the relationships among various levels of the religious councils are regulated. A decision taken by the religious council of a higher level in the NU organisation does not automatically bind lower-level religious councils or individual ulama. In order to be effective, the decision must be persuasive and accepted voluntarily and wholeheartedly. Otherwise, lower-level religious councils and individual ulama may exercise the right to reserve their decision or the right to disagree and request further discussion, for there are no human beings, including the most learned and revered ulama, who can assume the position of ultimate authority on truth: that position is reserved only for God. In this organisational structure it may also happen that an ulama of a local religious council is much higher in authority and prestige than a 'lay-activist' member of the Central Executive Council. In this case the latter must pay due respect to what the local ulama has to say and accommodate this properly in the organisational action. The situation described above might look like a lack of discipline or an organisation infested by factionalism. Indeed, to

the secular observer, the internal politics of the NU often appear to he hopelessly disorganised and perennially ridden by factional strife. However, when viewed in reference to the religious values underlying the organisational structure of the NU, apparent disagreements within the organisation present themselves not so much as a pathological state but rather as a healthy state of the organisation. With regard to this point, the ulama themselves often quote a hadith, a record of the Prophet's sayings, that disagreement among the ulama is the blessing of God for mankind. This being the case, therefore, when a consensus is reached on a particular issue among the ulama its morally binding force among the ulama, as well as over the community of the faithful, is extremely strong.17 The Significance of the Reports of the Central Executive Council In the light of the basic organisation of the Nahdlatul Ulama described above, it seems possible now to appreciate better the significance of the major thrust of the reports delivered by Idham Chalid and Achmad Sjaichu. Both acknowledged that there had been many attempts to alter the fundamental character of the Nahdlatul Ulama. However, it had withstood these threats and dangers, and succeeded in adhering to its original character, the Islamic association of the Sunni tradition. That seemed to be the reason why Idham Chalid, as mentioned above, thanked God for the successful survival of the NU and implied that the direction which the NU had taken since its last congress was basically correct.18 'Central' vs. 'Local' in the Nahdlatul Ulama From the preceding analysis of the structural features of the NU organisation, it should also be clear by now that the locational centrality of the Executive Council situated in Jakarta does not necessarily mean that it has more power and higher authority vis-a-vis local branches in the social geography of the Nahdlatul Ulama. Since the domiciles of nationally renowned ulama have been mostly in the pesantren of rural areas, often located deliberately remote from urban centres, it is a matter of natural order that 'local' usually connotes a higher place of esteem and authority than 'central' in the NU circles.19 The militancy of the local delegates displayed in the NU congress, 'therefore, should not be taken as a 'rebellion of the local rank and file against the Central Executive Council.' That might be an appropriate picture for a modern bureaucratic organization in which the principles of centrality and hierarchy

coincide, but not for the NU, with an organization based upon the collegial solidarity of autonomous llama. The claim of a local delegate, which I mentioned in the previous section, that the existence of the Central Executive Council depended largely on the local branches but not vice versa, is not mere rhetoric but rather an accurate presentation of the structural features of the NU organization. Thus, beneath the surface phenomenon of the militancy of local delegates which I observed in the congress, there seems to be the fundamental autonomy of the local branches of the NU under the leadership of the llama. Idham Chalid vs. Achmad Sjaichu This fundamental autonomy of the ulama and the concomitant militancy of the local branches in the NU organisation vis-a-vis its Central Executive Council seems to have played a decisive role in shaping the outcome of an electoral contest between the two Council members. Idham Chalid and Achmad Sjaichu. I must admit that my interpretation of the proceedings is almost entirely based upon my own observation of the overt events and actions on the floor of the congress. I must, therefore, have missed many events and actions concerning the electoral contest taking place behind the scenes. However, so far as observed facts are concerned, it seems that the difference in the two leaders' response to the criticisms from the local delegates determined the outcome of the election. My impression is that Idham Chalid's total surrender to the criticisms of the local delegates was seen by many of them as his acknowledgment of the distinguishing feature of the NU organisation, the sovereignty of the local branches and the ultimate autonomy of the ulama. Furthermore, it seems that many delegates felt it to be religiously commendable to forgive a man and give him another chance when he had honestly admitted and apologised for his mistakes, especially when the man is of obvious high calibre like Idham Chalid. In contrast, Achmad Sjaichu's self-defence, technically flawless and well argued if he had been a secular politician, sounded in fact tremendously arrogant, showing disrespect towards the local ulama and lack of appreciation of the primary role the local branches played in the NU organisation. It is my impression that Idham Chalid appeared to speak as a representative of the central service functionaries, while Achmad Sjaichu spoke as a representative of the central power holders. Idham Chalid affirmed the traditional ethos of the NU by expressing due respect towards the local ulama whereas Achmad Sjaichu defied the tradition and attempted to raise himself to the

position of a supreme commander.20 More generally, it can be observed that the fame of a leader in secular politics does not necessarily entail respect or trust in the NU circles. Rather, as indicated by the statement of the West Sumatran delegate quoted in the previous section equating politicians with 'rats', there seems to be a genuine distrust of secular politicians in the NU. An NU leader must, therefore, prove his leadership qualities primarily in religious terms whether he is sitting in the Religious or Executive Council. The Radical Traditionalism of the NU Let me conclude this section by discussing what I have called the radical traditionalism of the Nahdlatul Ulama. First of all, it is my observation that the NU is organisationally radical in the original sense of the term, i.e., 'of or pertaining to a root or to roots; fundamental, primary' (Webster). As we have seen above, the NU organisation is structured on the basis of the principle of autonomy and independence of its primary component units, the ulama. The NU is not derivative of any other organisations. It stands on its own terms. Watak mandiri, the character of autonomy and independence, which constitutes the ethos of the pesantren, according to Abdurrahman Wahid, seems to run through the organisation of the Nahdlatul Ulama as well.21 Secondly, there seems no denying that the NU has displayed an increasingly radical stance in politics in recent years: radical in the sense of broad, open, fundamental criticisms of the status quo. This recent radicalisation of the NU makes a stark contrast to its 'opportunistic' past. Has the NU changed its nature? It seems not. Rather, the basic religious nature of the NU remains constant. What has changed is its expression in the field of politics in response to national political developments. What concerns the NU all the time is whether it is striving to follow the Syari'ah, i.e., the Way of God or the religiously righteous way of life, as a group of individuals and as a collectivity of the community of the faithful, the umat. In pursuing this goal, the NU works directly from within the umat. The NU is committed to the well-being of the community of the faithful, and seeks divine guidance in the Qur'an and the Sunna, as they are interpreted by the ulama, in order to find appropriate ways for the faithful to behave in response to changing external situations. In so doing, the ulama know no other authorities than God Himself. The ulama cannot be dictated to by the temporal political authorities. The ulama are independent of the 'establishment', sometimes to the extent of open defiance. This gives a feature of fundamental 'people-ness'

(kerakyatan), a sort of populism, to the NU. If the NU sees an external situation moving in the same direction as it is heading, it will take an adaptive or 'opportunistic' stance vis-a-vis the external situation. Equally, if it sees the external environment moving in a direction contrary to its own, it will become radically critical of the external environment. The NU's stance can thus be situationally selective. At present, it is undoubtedly entering a radical phase. Yet, in both phases, the religious ideal, the Syari'ah, remains fundamental for the NU.22 Thirdly, the NU is traditional in one vital area of religious life, the transmission of religious values through scholarship and education. It is traditional in the true sense of the word, i.e., 'adhering to the act of transmitting something from generation to generation' (Webster). This characteristic of the NU is selfevident and does not seem to require any further elaboration.23 One point, however, to be remarked upon here is the fact that the NU's traditionalism in the area of religious scholarship and education does not necessarily mean that the content of what is being learned and transmitted is traditional in the sense of being mere blind repetition of past things. Instead, what is learned and transmitted is an ideal system to which individuals must adapt themselves and after which social reality must be remoulded. The mode of transmission may be traditional but what is transmitted is radical. I believe that this is one of the reasons why the NU's religious traditionalism does not hinder but rather enhances its ****** * This article was originally published in Southeast Asian Studies (Tonan Ajia Kenkyu), vol. 19, no. 2, September 1981, pp. 187-204, and is reprinted here with the kind permission of the publishers. 1 The spelling of the name of Nahdlatul Ulama in this paper follows the one employed by the organisation itself. Also in this paper, a distinction made in the Arabic original between 'alim (singular) and ulama (plural)--meaning 'man of knowledge'--has been ignored, following the Indonesian convention. In other words ulama is used both for singular and plural. 2 The NU was established in 1926 as jam'iyah diniyah Islamiyah, or 'Islamic religious association, and its fundamental character has not changed since. However, from the viewpoint of its relationship with government and politics, the history of the NU can be divided into five periods as follows: (a) 1926-1942, when the NU maintained a strict non-political and noncooperative stance vis-a-vis the Dutch colonial government; (b) 1942-1945, when it was forced to cooperate with the Japanese occupation authorities; (c) 1945-1952,

when it participated in the newly established Republican government through the Masyumi party, in which it held the status of a special member; (d) 1952-1973, when it participated in government and politics directly and independently in its own name, i.e., the NU as a political party; and (e)1973-present, when it relinquished its political activities to the newly formed Development Unity Party, or Partai Persatuan Pembangunan (PPP), and re-conformed its fundamental character as jam'iyah diniyah, religious association. The most recent change has been described by one of the NU leaders as the act of 'releasing' (melepaskan) and 'bestowing abundantly' (melimpahkan, limpah denotes overflowing of some liquid from a container) the 'practical political activities (aktivitas politik praktis) of the NU to the PPP [Achmad Siddiq 1979: 7]. These expressions seem to illustrate aptly the change as viewed by the NU leadership. 3 Nakamura [1972] gives an overview of the scope of this field work. For a history of social and religious developments in the town from the turn of the century up to the early 1970s, with a particular focus on the growth of the Muhammadiyah, see Nakamura [1976;1977]. 4 This picture of the NU, first presented and developed by Harry Benda and Clifford Geertz in the 1950s [Benda 1958; Geertz 1960a; 1960b], was unchallenged for the next two decades and even elaborated into a particular type in the political constellation of modern Indonesia by Feith and Castles [1970]. 5 The earliest documentation of this phenomenon seems to have been made by Ken Ward when he observed the 1971 general elections in East Java [Ward 1974]. On the basis of Ward's report and also of his own earlier work [Anderson 1970] in which the pondok-pesantren, the traditional rural Islamic boarding school, was viewed as the generator of revolutionary youths for the Indonesian independence struggle of 1945-1949, Ben Anderson warns of prejudice often found in the conventional secular view of the Nahdlatul Ulama as 'politically opportunist' [Anderson 1977: 23-24]. For descriptions of the struggles of the NU and the PPP in and around the 1971 and 1977 elections, see Liddle [1978], May [1978], and McDonald [1980]. 6 Various parts of the 'Basic Program for the Development of the Nahdlatul Ulama, 1979-1983' adopted by this NU congress in Semarang attest to this [Nahdlatul Ulama 1979b]. A more politically explicit criticism of the government can be found in the statement of the Development Unity Party presented to the MPR (Majelis Permusyawaratan Rakyat, or People's Consultative Assembly) on March ] 5, 1978, by one of its leaders, H. A. Chalid Mawardi, who is also a member of the current Central Executive Council of the Nahdlatul ulama. Criticising the presidential speech on the government's performance, 1973-1977, Chalid Mawardi advocated the following six points: (1) change the economic structure from one which is colonial and dependent on international markets into

one that is more independent and based on self-reliance; (2) change dependence of the economy on imported capital, technology, and management to reliance on domestic human resources; (3) first priorities should be given to the basic needs of good, clothing, housing, education, and health; (4) the bottom 40% of the population must receive special attention; (5) a nation-wide full employment policy is needed; and (6) inequalities in the distribution of property ownership, trade facilities, and the availability of education must be reduced (See McDonald [1980: 247-2491). 7 The most articulate spokesmen for this category of young activists include Abdurrahman Wahid and Mahbub Djunaidi. The former was elected to the position of vice-secretary of the Central Religious Council, Syuriah, and the latter, to that of second chairman of the Central executive Council, Tanfidziah, of the Nahdlatul Ulama through the Semarang congress. Both are popular and frequent contributors to a number of newspapers and magazines, including the most widely circulated, Kompas and Tempo. Their recent writings are now conveniently compiled into booklets, Abdurrahman Wahid [1979] and Mahbub Djunaidi [1978] respectively. Wawasan, a journal for intellectual discussion in search of alternative development strategies (published by the Lembaga Studi Pembangunan (LSP), Institute of Development Studies, Jakarta), should be given particular attention for the fact that its initial chief editor was Abdurrahman Wahid. Of course, the search for alternative development models is not confined to the NU circles. A number of young intellectuals and social activists are emerging and cooperating with each other regardless of their diverse ideological backgrounds and formal organisational affiliations. LSP is only one example of such cooperation. The popular social science journal Prisma also provides a common forum for these people. For earlier attempts by a group of young Islamic intellectuals at re-evaluating the pesantren for its potentiality in rural community development, see Dawan Rahardjo [1947a; 1974b; 1975] and Sudjoko Prasodjo et al. [1974]. 8 As far as I know, the best, though brief, exegesis of the NU tradition written for its own members is found in Achmad Siddiq [1979], an NU leader of national fame living in Jember, East Java. An 'autobiographic novel' written by Saifuddin Zuhri [1977], an NU leader from Banyumas, Central Java, and former Minister of Religion, depicts vividly the world of rural kiai and ulama and the development of the Nahdlatul Ulama from the 1930s through the post-independence period. An invaluable semi-official source book for the history of the NU is the commemorative volume dedicated to the late Wahid Hasjim, the NU leader from the late 1930s to the early 1950s, edited by Haji Aboebakar [1957]. For historical and ethnographic accounts in English of the intellectual and social organisational aspects of the pesantren tradition, see Zamakhsyari [1980; 1981]. 9 The congress was held in the Sports Hall of the Province of Central Gedung Olah Raga Propinsi Jawa Tengah) in the city of

Java (GOR,

Semarang, gathering together about 4,500 delegates from 343 branches of the Nahdlatul Ulama in all provinces of Indonesia (except Timor Timur). The delegates were accommodated in numerous middle to low class hotels and lodging houses (losmen) in the city, from where they were transported to GOR every day by a large number of micro-buses hired by the congress Organising Committee. A common kitchen (dapur umum) was set up, under a huge tent raised next to the GOR building, to serve meals to the delegates three times a day. 10 The agenda of the NU congress was as follows: (a) first day: registration and provincial meetings; (b) second day: plenary sessions for the opening ceremony and the reports of the Central Executive Council; (c)third and fourth days: plenary sessions for the speeches of the local delegates and the replies from the Central Executive Council; (d) fifth and sixth days: commissions and committee meetings; (e) seventh day: plenary sessions for the adoption of resolutions and statements, the election of new leadership, and closing ceremony. The scope of the debates in the NU congress can be appreciated by looking at the discussion material prepared for the participants in the congress, Rancangan Materi Muktamar N.U. Ke-XXVI [Nahdlatul Ulama 1979a], which contained 'The Rules for the Order of the Congress (Peraturan Tata Tertib Muktamar),''Draft Constitution of the Nahdlatul Ulama (Rancangan Anggaran Dasar Nahdlatul Ulama).''Basic Program for the Development of the Nahdlatul Ulama, 1979-1983 (Program Dasar Pengembangan Nahdlatul Ulama. 1979-1983).''Draft Resolutions and Statements to be adopted by the 26th Congress of the Nahdlatul Ulama (Rancangan Pernyataan/Sikap Nahdlatul Ulama yang diputuskan Muktamar N. U. KeXXVI.)' and some other items. The official version of the 'Basic Program...,' amended and adopted by the congress, is now available separately [Nahdlatul Ulama 1979b]. 11 Of the Indonesian mass media which covered this NU congress in Semarang, Suara Merdeka, a local daily of Semarang, and Tempo, a weekly magazine in Jakarta, seem to have produced the most detailed reportage of the congress. Other newspapers in Jakarta, such as Kompas, Sinar Harapan, and Islamic Pelita, and nationalist Merdeka, also devoted many articles to it. For the official report oft congress by the Nahdlatul Ulama itself, see its organ Risalah Nahdlatul Ulama. 12 The reader should, therefore, be warned of the limitations of this paper. It only deals with one aspect of the congress, which certainly had many other aspects not reported in this paper. Furthermore, I must make it clear that I still lack first-hand information on the NU in local social contexts, an aspect which has to be studied in any serious attempt at understanding the NU at its grass-roots. A fullscale research of the NU is yet to be done. 13 The report by Idham Chalid is available in mimeograph, Pidato Ketua Umum PB Nahdlatul Ulama KH Dr. Idham Chalid pada Muktamar NU Ke-XYVI di Semarang. For the Report by Achmad Sjaichu, no printed version was distributed and I have relied on my own field notes.

14 Although the delegates from East, West, and Central Java were by far the most numerous, one feature of this congress which surprised me was that the NU branches are now well spread throughout all parts of the country. They are no longer confined to the islands of Java and Madura, the traditional bases of the NU. A large number of delegates came to this NU congress from Aceh, North, South and West Sumatra, South Kalimantan, South and Central Sulawesi, and Eastern Indonesia. The conventional view still held by many Western observers that there is an inherent affinity between the NU and certain cultural traits of the Javanese, Madurese, and Sundanese seems now to require critical re-examination. 15 As one of the criteria for assessing the qualifications of a pesantren for the scholarship program, Achmad Sjaichu mentions the level of teaching in Arabic. Certainly the command of Arabic seems to be a basic prerequisite for a student to be considered eligible for advanced study in the institutions of higher learning in the Middle East; and the local delegates agreed with that. However, many of them seem to have been disturbed by the arbitrariness of the way in which a student's level of competence in Arabic was equated with the size of the fame of the pesantren to which the student belonged. Many delegates obviously wanted to have a more open competition and to give equal chances and encouragement to all students aspiring to study in the Middle East. 16 The reports by the Central Executive Council were finally accepted by the floor with a 'footnote' (catatan kaki) by the chairman of the plenary session who stated that the reports themselves were far from perfect; that all criticisms and suggestions for improvements should be added to the reports; and that the new leadership should heed the criticisms presented by the local delegates. With this critical 'footnote', the reports were approved by voice vote. 17 I attended a session of the Syuriah meeting held during the congress in the huge prayer hall of the Baiturrahman Mosque, next to the GOR building. The meeting was carried on in a serious but informal manner. There was no furniture at all except for one simple low desk in front of the chairman and the secretary, around whom the participants sat directly on the carpeted floor in irregular concentric circles. There was no seating order except that the Central Syuriah members and local Syuriah delegates occupied the inner rings while ordinary delegates, observers and onlookers like myself sat in the outer rings. The chairman seemed to be making a conscious effort to canvass and exhaust different views among the participant ulama on the subject under discussion. Debate went on endlessly around some issues. It sounded as if, on average, onethird of the oral presentation by a speaker was made in Arabic, apparently direct quotations from the Qur'an, the Hadith or a commentary, without being translated into Indonesian. Since I do not have a command of Arabic, I was not quite certain of what exactly was being discussed in the session. But it seemed to me that the meeting was, more often than not, agreeing to disagree over a number of issues and then deciding how to

deal with the disagreements. Certainly there were a number of renowned and revered senior ulama in this Syuriah session as well as in other meetings of the congress I observed. However, their seniority or 'charisma' did not at all stifle free and lively discussions. The absolute obedience of the santri (student) to the kiai (teacher), supposedly an ethos of the pesantren, did not seem to apply to the debate in the Syuriah or in any other meetings of the NU congress. A statement made by Idham Chalid in the beginning of his report that 'the NU had been pursuing its goals without being dictated to by anyone (tanpa dikomando), internally or externally' sounded truthful to me. In observing the sessions of the NU congress, I was sometimes irritated by an excess democracy rather than by any lack of it. The NU's way of deliberation brought home to me the true meaning of musyawarah mufakat (deliberation for consensus), which is often mistaken as compromise for convenience. 18 I did not hear a single objection to the direction being taken since the Surabaya congress, that is the relinquishing of political activities to the PPP and the reaffirmation of the NU's status as a religious association. The suggestion of the Vice President of the Republic, Adam Malik, made in his opening address to the congress, that 'the NU people do not need to be non-political (tidak usah perlu tidak berpolitik),' was light-heartedly appreciated but did not become a focus of serious discussion. Besides Adam Malik, a number of generals and government dignitaries came to address the congress. The response from the floor was generally polite and cordial, but sometimes refreshingly open. 19 Ken Ward [1974: 94-95] and Ben Anderson [1977: 24] discuss this phenomenon from a slightly different angle than mine. 20 A common image of Achmad Sjaichu outside the NU circles is that he is more 'modern', 'progressive' and closer to the 'reformists' like the Muhammadiyah than to the mainstream of the NU, and that he has strong ties with the international Muslim world, especially with the Middle Eastern countries. My observation of his performance in the congress leads me to question the appropriateness of this characterisation. 21 On the concept of watak mandiri, see the important paper entitled, Pesantren dan pengembangan watak mandiri (Pesantren and the development of the character of autonomy), presented by Abdurrahman Wahid to the Second National Congress of the Indonesian Association for the Advancement of the Social Sciences (HIPIIS) held in Menado, North Sulawesi, November 1977 (now included in Abdurrahman Wahid [1979)). 22 It seems necessary to take a fresh look at the history of the NU from the viewpoint of the NU's self-perception. For this, another recent work of Saifuddin Zuhri may provide a useful framework [Saifuddin Zuhri 1979].

23 Since my knowledge of traditional Islamic scholarship is very limited, I am incapable of appreciating whether there are any new developments which might challenge this tradition from within the NU circles. Even if there are any, my feeling is that they are more likely to be advanced in the name of tradition rather than in the name of reform. See Zamakhsyari [1981] on this matter. organisational radicalism and induces its politically radical stance in response to certain situations. The relationships among the three aspects of the NU, i.e., organisational radicalism, political situationalism, and religious traditionalism, can be understood, in broad outlines, as follows: (a) the NU's adherence to the Sunni tradition buttresses the autonomy of the ulama and sanctions the institutionalisation of this tradition in the structural features of the NU organisation, as we have seen; (b) the religious traditionalism enhances its organisational radicalism and makes it behave in a situationally selective way, i.e., adaptive or radical, vis-a-vis its external political environment; and(c) in a politically adverse situation its organisational radicalism induces the emergence of its role as articulator of political grievances of the underprivileged masses for, in the NU's self-perception, it has a religious obligation to speak up for the well-being of the people, i.e., the umat. Thus, it seems quite understandable that the NU with its religious traditionalism is now taking a radical stance vis-a-vis the current political environment. Hence my notion of the radical traditionalism of the Nahdlatul Ulama is derived. Concluding Remarks: The Study of Religion and Politics Admittedly, the ethnography for this paper is sketchy and the theoretical argument CryptiC.24 yet I feel that the first-hand observation I made of the Nahdlatul Ulama in action has enlightened me about at least one important point pertaining to the relationship between religion and politics in Indonesia today. When viewed from a secular viewpoint, the performance of the NU in Indonesian politics and the internal politics of the NU itself looks very puzzling: the aspects of radicalism and traditionalism in the NU appear mutually contradictory. However, when we take seriously the view that religion is supreme in values as well as in institutional devices of the NU organisation, that is, the view of the NU member himself, the radicalism and traditionalism of the NU present themselves as the two sides of the same coin. As an anthropologist, especially as an anthropologist working in Indonesia, I have long been accustomed to placing religion and politics on the same plane. This practice, however, is not only an act of disrespect to the faith of the individual whom we study

but also a faulty research strategy, for, by so doing, we arbitrarily delimit the scope of our conceptualisation, keeping it unrealistically underdeveloped and undifferentiated. Instead, we need a new, more sophisticated paradigm for the study of religion and politics in which the variable of religion is given a more distinctively autonomous place than has hitherto been the case. Religion cannot and should not be reduced to politics; nor, perhaps, to culture. More generally, it seems increasingly obvious that neither political nor cultural reductionism is capable of accounting satisfactorily for the recent resurgence of religious consciousness and devotion in the Islamic world. It seems that the students engaged in the study of religion and politics, including anthropologists, are now faced with the intellectual and existential challenge of this new phenomenon. A serious rethinking our conceptual framework is called for if we are to respond to this challenge. This paper, I hope, may be regarded as a small contribution, in my own terms, to this task of reappraisal.25 Acknowledgments I would like to thank Abdurrahman Wahid and the Organising Committee of the 26th National Congress of the Nahdlatul Ulama who invited me to participate in the congress as a special guest, undangan khusus. I also would like to thank the Toyota Foundation of Japan whose grant supported my trip to Indonesia. An earlier version of this paper was read at the fifth annual conference of the Australian Anthropological Society, 26-29 August, 1980, Brisbane. Many people have helped me in various ways at different stages in the preparation of this paper. I would like to take this opportunity to thank them: Ben Anderson, Reiko Atsumi, Brigid Ballard, Geoffrey Benjamin, Zam Dhofier, James Fox, Anthony Johns, Sidney Jones, Hiroyoshi Kano, Masayuki Kitamura, Burhan Magenda, Toru Matsui, Chalid Mawardi (and P.B. Ansor members), Hisako Nakamura, M. Ansori Nawawi, Allan Samson, Takashi Shiraishi, S. Soebardi, Karel Steenbrink, and Judith Wilson. It goes without saying, however, that none of those people should be held responsible for any errors still to be found in this paper: I alone must assume the responsibility for them. References Abdurrahman Wahid 1979, Bunga Rampai Pesantren: Kumpulan

Karya Tulis Abdurrahman Wahid, Dharma Bhakti, Jakarta. Aboebakar, H. (ed.), 1957, Sedjarah Hidup KI-IA. Wahid Hasjim dan Karangan Tersiar, Panitia Buku Peringatan aim. KHA. Wahid Hasjim, Jakarta. Achmad Siddiq 1979, Khitthah Nahdliyah, Balai Buku, Surabaya. Anderson, Benedict R.O'G. 1970, Java in a Time of Revolution: Occupation and Resistance 1944-1946, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, N.Y. -- 1977, 'Religion and Politics in Indonesia since Independence', in Benedict R. O'G. Anderson, M. Nakamura, and M. Slamet, Religion and Social Ethos in Indonesia, Centre of Southeast Asian Studies, Monash University, Clayton, pp.21-32. Benda, Harry J. 1958, The Crescent and the Rising Sun. Indonesian Islam under the Japanese Occupation 19421915, W. van Hoeve, The Hague and Bandung. Dawam Rahardjo, M. 1974a, 'Kehidupan Pemuda Santri: Penglihatan dari Jendela Pesantren Pabelan', in T. Abdullah (ed.), Pemuda dan Perubahan Sosial, LP3ES, Jakarta, pp.90-112. --- (ed.), 1974b, Pesantren dan Pembaharuan, LP3ES, Jakarta. ---1975, 'The Kyai, the Pesantren, and the Village: A Preliminary Sketch', Prisma (English Edition), vol.l, no.l, pp.32-43. Feith, Herbert, and Lance Castles, (eds), 1970, Indonesian Political Thinking,1945-1965, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, N.Y. Geertz, Clifford 1960a,'The Javanese Kijaji: The Changing Role of a Cultural Broker', in Comparative Studies in Society and History, vol. 2, no. 2, pp.2289_49. ---1960b, The Religion of Java, The Free Press, Glencoe, Illinois. Idham Chalid 1979, Pidato Ketua Umum PB Nahdlatul Ulama KHDr. Idham Chalid pada Muktamar NU Ke-XXVI di Semarang, (Mineographed) Liddle, R. William 1978, 'The 1977 Indonesian Election and

New Order Legitimacy', in Southeast Asian Affairs, 1978, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore. Mahbub Djunaidi 1978, Politik Tingkat Tinggi Kampus, Kelompok Studi Batas Kota, Yogyakarta. May, Brian 1978, The Indonesian Tragedy,: Routledge & Kegan Paul, London. McDonald, Hamish 1980, Suharto's Indonesia, Fontana Books, Blackburn, Victoria. Nahdlatul Ulama 1979, Rancangan Materi Muktamar N.U. KeXXVI, Tanggal 1-16 Rajab 1399 H/5-ll Juni 1979 M di Semarang, Pengurus Besar Nahdlatul Ulama (mimeographed), Jakarta. Nakamura, Mitsuo 1972, 'Jogjakarta-shi Kotagede niokeru Shakaijinruigaku Chosa no Yobihokoku', in Tonan Ajia Kenyu [Southeast Asian Studies], vol. 10, no. 3, pp. 466-476. ---1976, The Crescent Arises Over the Banyan Tree: A Study of the Muhammadijah Movement in a Central Javanese Town, Unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation, Cornell University, Ithaca, N.Y. ---1977, 'Professor Haji [Abdul] Kahar Muzakkir and the Development of the Reformist Movement in Indonesia', in Benedict R. O'G. Anderson, M. Nakamura, and M. Slamet (eds), Religion and Social Ethos in Indonesia, Centre of Southeast Asian Studies, Monash University, Melbourne, pp.l-20. ---1980a, 'The Reformist Ideology of Muhammadiyah', in James J. Fox (ed.), Indonesia: The Making of a Culture, Research School of Pacific Studies, The Australian National University, Canberra, pp.273-86. ---1980b, 'Sufi Elements in Muhammadiyah? Notes from Field Observation', Paper read at the fifth annual conference of the Australian Association for the Study of Religions, held concurrently with the international conference in Islam,'The Qur'an through Fourteenth Centuries,' at the Australian National University, Canberra, May 1980 (Published in Indonesian translation, Unsur Sufi dalam Muhammadiyah: Catatan dari Kancah, in Prisma, no. 8, August 1980, pp.9299). Saifuddin Zuhri 1977,Guruku: Orang-orang dari Pesantren,: P.T. Al Ma'arif, Bandung.

Sudjoko Prasodjo et al., 1974, Profil Pesantren: Laporan Hasil Penelitian Pesantren Al-Falak dan Delapan Pesantren Lain di Bogor, LP3ES, Jakarta. Ward, Ken 1974, The 1971 Election in Indonesia: An East Java Case Study, Monash Papers on Southeast Asia No. 2, Centre of Southeast Asian Studies, Monash University, Clayton, Melbourne. Zamakhsyari Dhofier 1980, 'Kinship and Marriage among the Javanese Kyai', Indonesia, no. 29, pp. 47-58. ---1981, The Pesantren Tradition: A Study of the Role of the Kyai in the Maintenance of the Traditional Ideology of Islam in Java, Unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation, The Australian National University, Canberra.

********* 24 My effort to understand the NU, and to arrive at a more balanced perspective of Islam in Indonesia, has barely begun. I am aware that the present paper is too narrow in scope to do justice to the NU in its entirety and too simplistic in analysis to reveal the complexity of its dynamics. It is my sincere hope that my colleagues, especially those who are well qualified in Islamic studies, will pay serious attention to the study of the NU of Indonesia, a vital Islamic movement in the contemporary Muslim world. I will be very happy if my present effort stimulates their intellectual appetite. 25 For more on this point from different angles see Nakamura [1980a; 1980b].

Chapter Four NU's Leadership Crisis and Search for Identity in the Early 1980s: From the 1979 Semarang Congress to the 1984 Situbondo Congress.1 Mitsuo Nakamura

The purpose of this paper is to discuss the significance of various changes which occurred in Nahdlatul Ulama's national leadership between 1979 and 1984, i.e., from the 26th National Congress (muktamar) in Semarang to the 27th Congress in

Situbondo.2 There were two major issues dominating NU during this period: the first was often referred to as the 'reestablishment of the 1926 guidelines' (pemulihan khittah NU 1926); the other was the acceptance of Pancasila (the national ideology) as the 'sole foundation' (asas tunggal) of the association. The acknowledgment of Pancasila as asas tunggal was made obligatory by the government for all political and social organisations. These issues precipitated a series of dramatic events within NU, not the least of which was the ousting of idham Chalid, who had personified NU over the previous two decades. The Situbondo Congress formalised the rise of the Achmad Siddiq-Abdurrahman Wahid leadership and also decided that NU would break from its past involvement in so-called, 'practical politics' tie. its existence as an independent political party between 1952 and 1973 and as a major element within the Islamic party, PPP, since 1973). The decision to move in this direction had in fact already been made at the Semarang Congress but was discussed in greater depth, and reconfirmed, at the Situbondo Congress. The Congress reasserted that NU's raison d'etre was to function as a religious organisation, or 'jamiah diniyyah', under the leadership of ulama. The subsequent performance of the Siddiq-Abdurrahman leadership at the Situbondo Congress to the latest Krapyak Congress of 1989 is, however, a separate topic and we will limit our discussion here to an examination of NU during the first half of the 1980s (i.e., the period leading up to the Situbondo Congress).3 This paper is in three sections. Firstly, we shall look at the leadership crisis in mid-1982 leading to the fall of Idham Chalid. Secondly, the acceptance of Pancasila as asas tunggal and the formation of the Siddiq-Abdurrahman leadership team in late 1983-1984 will be examined. Finally, we will consider NU's contribution to Indonesia's development and the reform program of Abdurrahman Wahid. In order to better understand the nature and significance of the transformation that took place in NU we will examine several important documents that appeared during this period. There are two documents in particular which warrant careful examination, both written by Achmad Siddiq, who was elected to the position of rais am (general president) of the Syuriah (NU's National Religious Council) in the Situbondo Congress. The first is a booklet entitled Khitthah Nahdliyah (The Basic Guidelines for NU's Struggle) published a few months before the Semarang Congress.4 The second is a policy paper entitled 'Pemulihan Khitthah Nahdlatul Ulama 1926' (The Re-establishment of the Nahdlatul Ulama Charter of 1926), which he submitted to the

National Conference of NU Religious Scholars (Musyawarah Nasional Alim Ulama NU) or Munas held in Situbondo in December 1983 tie. one year before the muktamar was held at the same place).5 Understanding the thrust of these two documents is extremely important if we are to appreciate what happened during this period. They focus on the seminal ideas of the reform movement led by Achmad Siddiq and Abdurrahman Wahid. In this context another important source is a long interview-based article by Abdurrahman entitled 'Establishing Beachheads in the Push Towards the Indonesia of Our Dreams' (Menetapkan Pangkalan-pangkalan Pendaratan Menuju Indonesia Yang Kita Cita-citakan').6 Whilst this article does not specifically dwell on the place and role of NU in the 'Indonesia of Our Dreams', it is nonetheless very enlightening in the way in which it provides a clear insight into Abdurrahman's thought at the beginning of the 1980s. In his opinion, what was needed urgently were efforts to create a'sense of being a nation' and to overcome the most fundamental problems (masalah-masalah yang paling dasar) of poverty, ignorance, and backwardness. Leadership Crisis: Fall of Idham Chalid (May 1982) The intensity of criticism against Idham Chalid's leadership in the Semarang Congress was a clear indication that a critical situation was developing in NU. Nevertheless, he was re-elected to the position of the general chairman of the Tanfidziah (Executive Board) in 1979, after admitting to, and apologising for, his errors and promising to improve his performance. Idham's authority was seemingly re-established at this congress, but before long it was again called into question. The death of KH Bisri Syansuri, NU's rais am, in April 1980 precipitated the disintegration of the top leadership of NU. Kiai Bisri was one of NU's most senior ulama and had participated directly in the foundation of NU in 1926. His strong credentials as an expert in fiqh (Islamic jurisprudence) were crucial in providing religious sanction to the behaviour of NU. His role was decisive in forcing modifications to the Marriage Law bill in the parliament in 1973 and the PPP's walkout on the issue of kebatinan (mystical sects) in 1978. He was an important religious figure within the PPP as well. His death effectively weakened NU's strength in the PPP resulting in a series of conflicts between NU and the modernist Muslimin Indonesia (MI) faction led by John Naro. The issue of NU's share of seats in the parliament was particularly bitter, with Naro relegating many of NU's most effective politicians to unwinnable positions

on the candidate list for the 1982 general elections. His handling of this matter brought strong protests from some of NU's senior leaders but Idham himself did nothing to defend his organisation's position. On 2 May 1982 Idham Chalid was visited in Jakarta by four senior ulama who urged him to step down for 'health reasons'. Those four ulama were KH As'ad Syamsul Arifin of Situbondo, KH Ali Ma'shum of Krapyak, KH Machrus Aly of Lirboyo, and KH Masykur of Jakarta. Individually, they commanded considerable authority within NU; collectively they could claim to speak for the majority of the organisation's ulama. They conveyed a clear message to Idham that his chairmanship of NU was no longer desirable or tolerable. This left Idham with little choice but to sign a statement resigning from the position of general chairman and handing interim authority over to Ali Ma'shum, who had succeeded Kiai Bisri as rais am. In order not to disturb the national general elections on 4 May, it was agreed that Idham's statement would not be made public until 6 May. Nevertheless the news soon started to circulate and quickly caused uproar both within NU and broader political circles. Idham's supporters called the event a'coup by ulama'. A substantial number of the members of NU's two central boards (i.e., the Tanfidziah and Syuriah) and the provincial leadership groups disapproved of the manner in which Idham had been asked to step down and demanded that he be reinstated. Idham himself surprised the public by issuing a statement on 14 May cancelling his earlier resignation. NU was split between those who supported Idham and those who desired new leadership. ProIdham forces claimed that the authority of NU's central leadership and the formal functioning of the organisation were in jeopardy. Out of this tumult, two opposing groups emerged. One, headed by the four senior ulama who had sought Idham's resignation, was labelled by the media as the 'Situbondo group', after the region in which Kiai As'ad's pesantren was located. The other group was staunchly supportive of Idham, and comprised mostly NU politicians and bureaucrats at the Jakarta level. It was called the 'Cipete group' (after the suburb in Jakarta where Idham lived). Statements and counter-statements flew as the two groups skirmished and manoeuvred to recruit supporters. The 2 May incident was unprecedented in NU's history. The fact that an NU general chairman who was elected by the congress, could be asked to step down by a small group of senior ulama gave rise to speculation about elitism within NU. The incident was not, however, unreasonable given the organisational structure of NU. The Syuriah is invested with paramount

authority. The Tanfidziah, regardless of the popularity or seniority of its members within the organisation, was ultimately subordinate to the Syuriah. An effective reversal of this order over the preceding two decades had seen the general chairman and the Tanfidziah act as if they held ultimate power in Nahdlatul Ulama. For many ulama this was a highly regrettable deviation from the ideals and founding principles of NU. In fact, the senior ulama in NU saw this as a serious threat to the organisation's existence. Acceptance of Pancasila as asas tunggal and the formation of the Siddiq-Abdurrahman leadership team In time it became obvious that the Situbondo group had a decisive upper hand over the Cipete group. The Situbondo group in effect represented the Syuriah. It was this body which appointed Abdurrahman Wahid as the chairman of the preparatory committee for the 1983 Munas. A munas is organised by the Syuriah and attended by distinguished ulama, most of whom are the heads of pesantren. It is a forum for deliberation (musyawarah) amongst ulama and is empowered to make recommendations to the muktamar. A munas has no authority to change the constitution and statutes of NU, the decisions of the muktamar, or the composition of the national leadership. It does however, have considerable moral authority, and given the controversy within NU since 1982, the decisions of the 1983 munas could not be easily ignored. By appointing Abdurrahman as munas committee chairman, the Situbondo group was setting in motion a train of events that would result in an overhaul of the NU leadership. The 1983 Munas Alim Ulama NU was convened at Pesantren Salafiyah Syafi'iyah, Asembagus, Situbondo, East Java (a pesantren under the tutelage of KH As'ad Syamsul Arifin) from 18-21 December. The so-called, 'Munas Situbondo' made a series of significant decisions, clearly setting a new direction for NU. Among those decisions, the three most important were the 'Restoration of the fundamental guidelines of NU 1926' (Pemulihan khittah Nahdlatul Ulama 1926), the 'Declaration on the relationship between Pancasila and Islam' (Deklarasi tentang hubungan Pancasila dengan Islam), and the 'Recommendation on the prohibition of NU officials simultaneously acting as officials of political organisations' (Rekomendasi larangan perangkapan jabatan pengurus NU dengan jabatan pengurus organisasi politik). These decisions not only reconfirmed the supremacy of the ulama within the organisation, they also cleared the way for the acceptance of

Pancasila as the organisation's sole foundation. These two aspects were .inseparably intertwined and encapsulate the transformation of NU that began at this munas. As mentioned at the beginning of this paper, some of the most important discussion material circulated among ulama and NU cadres during this period was written by Achmad Siddiq. His Khitthah Nahdliyah and 'Pemulihan Khitthah Nahdlatul Ulama 1926' became official discussion papers at the 1983 munas and were extensively quoted in the final decisions. The following is a paraphrased and abridged translation of Siddiq's 'Pemulihan' paper distributed among the munas participants. There are three main tonics which deserve attention. The first of these concerns the position of ulama. Here Siddiq argues that NU was established as a religious association (jam'iyah diniyah) representing those who share the orthodox Sunni tradition where decisions are made on the basis of one of the four mazhab (schools) of Islamic jurisprudence, ie. the Syafi'i, Hambali, Hanafi, and Maliki. The ulama are the pillars of the umat (the community of the faithful) and the well-being of the umat is dependent on the leadership of ulama. As its name suggests NU is an organisation of ulama who have arisen (bangkit) to the challenges of the hour and whose task it is to awaken (membangkitkan) their disciples (santri) and fellow Muslims around them. The leadership role of ulama is not limited to pesantren where they assume the position of guides and mentors to the santri but ought to be much broader, influencing the surrounding Muslim communities. Consequently, nobody within NU should ignore or challenge the leadership of ulama. Siddiq's paper did not ignore contemporary developments either. It commented on NU's current crisis that: So long as the leadership position of the ulama is stable, NU will continue to go along smoothly. However, in recent years, there has been some regression of the ulama's position in NU. Some of the Tanfidziah members who are technocrats and entrusted by the ulama to cany out the dayto-day tasks of running the organisation have challenged the leadership role of the ulama. This is the cause of the recent shaking of the foundations of NU. Awareness of the danger coming from this has been growing in NU for some time, and decisions intended to restore the position and function of the ulama in order to secure the future of NU have been made time and time again. However, there has been no recognition of the authority of these decisions at all up till

now. Instead various obstacles and hindrances have been set by way of numerous excuses and all manner of tactics. Deliberation must now occur to ensure that they are removed. It is proper and fitting that the ulama who have gathered together for this musyawarah formulate concrete steps to ensure that these obstacles and hindrances are once and for all overcome. The second topic was that of organisational reform. Regarding this, Siddiq wrote: It is necessary to develop the following formula to secure the authority of the Syuriah as the manager of NU: those in charge of NU (pengurus) at all levels are the members d Syuriah; only Syuriah leaders are to be elected through conferences; the functionaries (pengurus pelaksana ie. the members of the Tanfidziah) are to be appointed and dismissed by the Syuriah after considering the result of musyawarah; and it is necessary to make the qualifications for the Syuriah candidates more strict. His third point concerned NU principles of activity. NU's actions are based upon religious convictions and Islamic law (Syari'ah), and the decisions of NU that have been approved by the Syuriah as lawful (sah). The Syuriah Board is authorised collectively to deny permission or stop any plans for activities if they are against the teachings or interests of Islam or against the by-laws of NU. NU was established to pursue the common good (ishlaah). This is in accordance with the goal of national development, ie. the holistic development of Indonesian people (pembangunan manusia Indonesia seutuhnya). Because of that, NU participates in nation building actively and positively, not because of its responsibility to meet the national obligations alone but also to meet its own religious obligations and to realise its own ideals. This last point, i.e., participation in national development efforts, represented a stepping stone for the next point of the argument, namely that the acceptance of the Pancasila as the asas tunggal of NU is not a matter of political tactics, but rather is based upon NU's founding principles. The leaders of Indonesia's umat, it was argued, had participated actively in the formulation of the Pancasila, and its noble values are congruent

with and supported by Islamic principles. Pancasila and Islam can go together side-by-side and can complement each other (saling menunjang). The two are not in contradiction and should not be put into contradiction. There is no need to choose one of the two and throw away the other. NU accepts Pancasila as it is set out in the 1945 Constitution and rejects the interpretation of Pancasila which deviates from it and rejects the view that it is of the same level as a religion. Islam is a revealed religion while Pancasila is the result of human thinking. The Government has always emphasised that it has no intention of making Pancasila into a religion or creating a Pancasila-like religion. NU takes the claims of the Government seriously. NU is convinced that the government is not inviting NU to accept Pancasila in order to reduce the standing of Islam. NU accepts Pancasila not because of political considerations but rather because of considerations of Islamic law. To illustrate this point Siddiq refers to NU's historical experience. At the 1936 Congress held in Banjarmasin, NU adopted a resolution that Indonesia was to be regarded as 'Darul Islam' (literally, 'the abode, or domain, of Islam'). This is a technical term in Islamic jurisprudence referring to a territory that has a majority population of Muslim citizens. Darul Islam in this context (it is used elsewhere in a strongly political way) does not have any implication of an 'Islamic state', but rather refers to 'Islamic territory'. One of the immediate consequences of adopting this term of reference is that an unidentified corpse would automatically be assumed to be Muslim, unless investigations prove otherwise, and as such would be accorded an Islamic burial. More importantly though, it means that the entire Muslim population is religiously obligated to maintain order and social harmony and to prevent crime. In other words, it signified a recognition by the Muslim community that Indonesia is their home and that they cannot consider the interests of the nation to be otherwise than their own interests. Moreover, this understanding holds regardless of whether or not the national government is constitutionally an Islamic government or a secular government. Siddiq then mentions the resolution taken by NU's ulama in anticipation of a serious battle in Surabaya in October 1945. Muslims were obligated individually (fardlu 'ain) to engage in the physical struggle to defend Indonesia from the returning Dutch

colonialists. This is the famous 'Jihad Resolution' (Resolusi Jihad) that helped heighten Indonesian resistance to the reestablishment of Dutch authority. Another case indicating NU's attitude to the government was the according of the title of waliyul amri dlaruri bissyaukah ('effective holder of interim power') to President Sukarno in 1954 in the midst of the Darul Islam rebellion. The title meant that the Republic of Indonesia was a lawful state (negara yang sah) according to Islamic law, and that the head of state was entitled to appoint wall hakim (legal delegates) to act on his behalf. A common example was when a wall hakim officiated for an absent father of the bride at a marriage ceremony. This, in effect, gave to civil law a religious sanction, in as much as the head of state and his various officers and representatives were recognised by Sunni jurisprudence as ruling with God-given authority, even though they did not constitute an Islamic government. The jenazah (dead body) case and the wall hakim (legal representative) case are both directly concerned with the administration of personal law for Muslims, yet their implications go well beyond this. In fact, they serve to legitimate the Republic of Indonesia in terms of Islamic law. These cases represent excellent examples of how NU jurists (fuqaha) approach broader legal issues. The Situbondo Munas also signalled the emergence of the Siddiq-Abdurrahman leadership. Solidly supported by the most senior ulama within NU--As'ad Syamsul Arifin, Machrus All, Ali Ma'shum, and Masjkur--the eloquent Achmad Siddiq was instrumental in persuading the munas participants to adopt formally the abovementioned decisions. Abdurrahman Wahid, as the chairman of the preparatory committee, was very active in engaging, through a series of careful consultations, senior government officials to formulate a mutually agreeable framework for cooperation. Through this process he developed a close working relationship with Benny Moerdani, then Commander of Kopkamtib (Komando Pemulihan Keamanan dan Ketertiban--the Command for the Restoration of Security and Public Order), the powerful military security apparatus. Abdurrahman also played a critical role in directing discussions at the munas sessions towards the acceptance of the resolutions formulated by Siddiq. Through this munas, the distinctive role of the Siddiq-Abdurrahman team was widely recognised and the ground laid for the formalisation of their leadership positions at the 1984 NU congress. Achmad Siddiq belonged to the second generation of the founders of NU. His father, M. Siddiq who established Pesantren

As-Siddiqiyah, Jember, in 1915 was among the founders of NU. Together with his elder brother, Machfoezh Siddiq, Achmad continued to lead his father's pesantren. After heading the NU youth organisation Ansor, he became Secretary to the Minister of Religious Affairs, Wahid Hasyim, from 1949 to 1952. He was elected to the parliament in the 1955 general elections but withdrew shortly afterwards to concentrate on pesantren education. He was a member of the Syuriah when he wrote the influential Khitthah Nahdliyah booklet in the late 1970s and assumed the role of formulator of NU's identity. His election to the position of rais am in the 1984 Situbondo congress at the comparatively young age of 63 (together with the elevation of the thirty-nine year old Abdurrahman Wahid to the general chairmanship) marked a significant regeneration of the top leadership of NU. His eloquence and authoritative air contributed greatly to accelerating the process of change within NU. The success of the Situbondo Munas paved the way for the success of 1984 NU Congress. Meanwhile, reconciliation was achieved with the Cipete group through the mediation of the Mrs Wahid Hasyim tie. widow of Wahid Hasyim). Preparation for the Congress was again entrusted to Abdurrahman Wahid. The timing of the Congress was very significant in that it was set to conclude just before the passage of the Social Organisations Law bill in the Parliament. Instead of engaging in lobbying for its modification, a course of action vigorously pursued by Muhammadiyah, NU was to tackle the problem of asas tunggal and Pancasila more positively and on its own terms. The choice of pesantren Situbondo as a venue for the congress was also very significant. Marking a clear departure from the pattern set by the two previous congresses which had been held in the large cities of Surabaya in 1971 and Semarang in 1979. Situbondo was located in the remote countryside of East Java, an unlikely location for a national congress but typical pesantren country. The choice was felt to be appropriate, for not only did it serve to pay homage to the elderly As'ad Syamsul Arifin, but it also expressed, in more general terms, that the theme of the congress was the 're-establishment of ulama leadership' within NU. When the time for the congress arrived it seemed as if the entire national membership of NU had gathered in Situbondo, moving one newspaper to begin the front page news item under the headline: 'Endless Waves of People'. Endless too were the waves of senior government figures and high-ranking officials, civil as well as military, that descended upon the small city. Foremost amongst them was President Soeharto. This procession of officials left no doubt as to the level of government concern over the outcome of the congress.

The congress convened from the 8-12 December 1984. Of the many resolutions passed the following were the most important: (1) the acceptance of Pancasila as the asas tunggal, or sole foundation, of NU;

*********** 1 This is a revised version of a paper presented at the 'Contemporary Trends in Indonesian Islam' conference, Centre of Southeast Asian Studies, Monash University, 14-15 September 1991. I would like to thank Greg Fealy and Greg Barton for their considerable assistance in editing this article. 2 For my account of the 1979 Congress, see 'The Radical Traditionalism Nahdlatul Ulama in Indonesia: A Personal Account of the 26th National Congress', Southeast Asian Studies, vol. 19, no. 2, pp.187204. [Republished in chapter three of this book.]

of the

3 The 1989 NU Congress at Krapyak has already been well examined by Martin van Bruinessen. See, 'The 2801 Congress of the Nahdlatul Ulama: Power Struggle and Social Concerns', Archipe[, no. 41, 1991. [Republished in chapter seven of this book.] 4 Achmad Siddiq, Khitthah Nahdliyah Balai Buku, Surabaya, 1979. 5 Achmad Siddiq, Pemulihan Khitthah Nahdlarul Ulama 1926, stencil, Jember, 1983. 6 Abdurrahrnan Wahid,'Menetapkan Pangkalan-Pangkalan Pendaratan Menuju Indonesia yang Kita Cita-Citakan', in Imam Walujo and Kons Kleden (interviewers and eds), Dialog: Indonesia Kini dan Esok (Dialogue: Indonesia in the Present and Future), Leppenas, Jakarta, 1980, pp.103-28. (2) the restoration of the primacy of ulama leadership by reconfirming the supremacy of the Syuriah over the Tanfidziah in the statutes and by-laws; (3) the withdrawal of NU from 'practical politics' by prohibiting NU officials from simultaneously holding official positions in a political party; and (4) the election of the new leadership with a new package of programs which placed heavy emphasis on non-political

fields. The election of a new leadership was significant. The method adopted to achieve this was somewhat unusual but nevertheless effective. Upon the written proposal of Idham Chalid, the congress decided by acclamation that the election of formateurs should be completely entrusted to As'ad Syamsul Arifin. As'ad then chose six others to form a commission of 'those who bind and solve' (ahlul halli wal aqdi). The seven-member commission conferred and drew up a new leadership list for NU. As expected, Achmad Siddiq and Abdurrahman Wahid were appointed to head the Syuriah and Tanfidziah respectively. The other appointments, however, came as a surprise to many, including Abdurrahman himself. The Cipete group was almost completely eliminated and even the proteges of As'ad were ignored. This new team represented something of an overkill against the Idham faction and was to cause new conflict after the congress. A further problem was the appointment of senior ulama as mustasyar (advisers). Their dominance served ultimately to suffocate the internal democracy of the organisation. NU's Place and Role in the Development of Indonesia: Abdurrahman Wahid's Vision There were high expectations of the new NU leadership. Abdurrahman, in particular, attracted close attention because as general chairman he was responsible for implementing the organisation's new programme of social and economic activities. Some insight into how Abdurrahman saw NU contributing to national development can be gained from his 'Establishing Beachheads' article of 1980. One of the points which he emphasised was the need for longterm planning and sustained effort if development objectives were to be achieved. In the short term, he advocated a 'strategic approach' rather than a revolutionary one. This required settingup 'beachheads' from which the development process within the broader community could be launched. He viewed the pesantren network as one possible beachhead. The important thing, he argued, was for these beachheads to develop their own human resources at the same time as stimulating development efforts in the surrounding community. In this way, both the spiritual and material well-being of the entire population could be enhanced. Development should be a process of people's transformation, he said, and not just a matter of building up facilities and physical infrastructure. Projects for socio-economic transformation

initiated by external organisations were fine but what was really needed was for the people themselves to do the work, the start of a process of 'inner change'.7 Another theme which Abdurrahman pursued was that of Islam and the development of tolerant attitudes. A tradition of tolerance in Islam was clearly established, he said, by the actions of Muhammad, by teachings contained in the Qur'an, and by the hadith (traditions of the Prophet Muhammad). Islam was tolerant in nature because that was the order of God. Although part of Islamic tradition, many Muslims as well as non-Muslims chose not to understand this. He stated that the rights of minorities must be recognised and a firm stand taken against discrimination or intimidation on the basis of religion.8 Abdurrahman also urged Islamic leaders to broaden their own perspective and avoid 'overclaiming' on behalf of their faith. Making excessive demands about the role and rights of one's religion was seen as especially dangerous because it would result in exclusivism and compartmentalisation. What was needed, he argued, was for religious leaders to consider society as a whole, rather than just their own particular constituency. Religion should demand only the foundations for life; it should not advocate theocracy or a dominant role in government. He cited Iran and Malaysia as examples where this had happened. Excessive religious demands were dangerous for they cause other sections of society to organise against them.9 He further bemoaned the lack of discussion amongst ulama about social problems such as corruption, gambling and pornography, and their reluctance to develop approaches for tackling poverty, ignorance, and backwardness. He referred to the example of his father, Wahid Hasjim, and Machfoezh Siddiq, both of whom were deeply concerned about, and active in addressing, social problems. The final aspect of Abdurrahman's article which deserves mention is the section dealing with Pancasila and Indonesia's political culture. He spoke out strongly against implementing Pancasila in an absolutist manner being especially wary of demanding conformism to a particular interpretation of the national ideology. Instead he appealed for the cultivation of 'support areas' (daerah sangga) which were committed to democratic values and general community interests, and which would resist the manipulation of Pancasila by those with absolutist intentions. He offered the example of the traditional Javanese kings who claimed absolute power but whose absolutism was cushioned by a 'support area' of priyayi (aristocratic and administrative class). His conclusion is that Indonesia requires a new support area to limit the exercise of naked power.10

Conclusion The period between the 1979 and 1984 NU Congresses has seen a dramatic change in the leadership and orientation of Nahdlatul Ulama. The rise to power of Achmad Siddiq and Abdurrahman Wahid revitalised the organisation and brought a new sense of purpose to its activities. It has seen NU depart from party politics, re-affirm the primacy of ulama leadership, and renew its commitment to social and religious activities. It has also greatly improved its relations with the government. These changes have been due to NU's ability to not only draw upon the organisation's religious and historical traditions but also adapt to the challenge of change. ______________________________________________________________________ ______________________________________________________________________ References Abdurrahman Wahid 1981, 'Menetapkan pangkalan-pangkalan pendaratan menuju Indonesia yang kita cita-citakan,' in Iman Walujo and Kons Kleden (eds), Dialog: Indonesia Kini dan Esok, Keppenas, Jakarta. Achmad Siddiq 1979, Khitthah Nahdliyah, Balai Buku, Surabaya. 1983, 'Pemulihan Khittah Nahdlatul Ulama 1926' (stencil), Jember. Bruinessen, Martin van 1991, 'The 28th Congress of the Nahdlatul Ulama: Power Struggle and Social Concern,' Archipel, no. 41, pp.195-200. Nakamura, Mitsuo 1981, 'The radical traditionalism of the Nahdlatul Ulama in Indonesia: A personal account of the 26th National Congress, June 1979, Semarang', Tonan Ajia Kenkyu (Southeast Asian Studies), vol. 19, no. 2, pp.187204. -- 1984, 'Islam and Pancasila: The Accommodation of the Nahdlatul Ulama to the State Ideology of Indonesia', paper read at the conference of the Asian Studies Association of Australia, May 1984, Adelaide. Pengurus Besar Nahdlatul Ulama 1985, Hasil Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama Ke-2 7 Situbondo, Sumber Barokah, Semarang.

**************** 7 Abdurrahman, pp.103-5. 8 Ibid., pp.108-11. 9 Ibid., pp.117-22. 10 Ibid., pp.112-15. Chapter Five Islam, Pancasila and the Middle Path of Tawassuth: The Thought of Achmad Siddiq Greg Barton

The role of the late KH Achmad Siddiq as elder statesman of the Situbondo reform group has been discussed extensively elsewhere in this volume. As the chapters by Nakamura and van Bruinessen make clear, Siddiq, together with Abdurrahman Wahid, was one of the chief architects in the process of reform within NU that began with the 1983 Munas NU (Musyawarah Nasional Alim Ulama NU) at Situbondo. Like the vast majority of his fellow kiai, Achmad Siddiq wrote very little for publication. Consequently, his thought is not well known outside of pesantren circles. Fortunately, younger friends and students of Siddiq saw to it that some of his lectures and their discussions with him appeared in print. This chapter focuses on Siddiq's thought as it is recorded in two short books, Khitthah Nahdliyah [A Program for NU members]1 and Islam, Pancasila dan Ukhuwah Islamiyah: Wawancara dengan Rois Aam PBNU KH Achmad Siddiq [Islam, Pancasila and Muslim Brotherhood: An Interview with PBNU Rais Am KH Achmad Siddiq]2 published in 1979 and 1985 respectively. These books record his thinking in several key areas, most notably the relationship between Islam, Pancasila and the Indonesian state. The purpose of this chapter is, firstly, to reproduce, in translation, key passages from these books in order that Siddiq's thought might be brought to the attention of a wider audience, and secondly, it is hoped that this may lead to a better understanding of the dynamics of reform within Nahdlatul Ulama.

Biographical Notes Achmad Siddiq was born in Jember, East Java, in 1926 into a pesantren family. His father, Kiai Siddiq, and his older brother, Kiai Machfoezh Siddiq, were prominent ulama, the latter serving as chairman-general (ketua umum) of NU from 1937 to 1942. Achmad Siddiq served as private secretary to the Minister for Religious Affairs, KH Wahid Hasjim, from 1949 to 1952. He was a member of parliament for brief periods under both the Old Order and New Order regimes (in 1955-6 and again in 1971). For most of his career he worked in the Department of Religious Affairs, ultimately rising to the level of Head of the Regional Office of East Java. The 1983 Munas at Situbondo saw the reform movement led by Siddiq and Abdurrahman make strong gains and in the national congress one year later Siddiq was elected to the position of rais am (president-general) of the Syuriah, together with Abdurrahman who became chairmangeneral of the Tanfidziah. Khitthah Nahdliyah Khitthah Nahdliyah was first published in May 1979, (and then reissued in February 1980) as the result of Achmad Siddiq's desire to produce a document summarising the essential elements of NU belief and conviction. This brief book of j5 pages is essentially a collection of edited lecture notes based on talks given by Achmad Siddiq to various groups within NU, and recorded by his assistant, Muchith Muzadi. The book is somewhat incomplete in scope and uneven in style, and was considered by Siddiq to be merely a first attempt at producing a handbook on NU thought. Unfortunately, Siddiq never got around to substantially revising it before dying in 1991 at the relatively young age of 65. Nevertheless, this book remains an important document, not least because it records Siddiq's views on the raison d'etre of NU and especially, what he saw the moderate and adaptable nature of traditionalist Islam. These were central elements of the reform agenda of the Situbondo group when it emerged in the mid-1980s. The book begins by setting forth Siddiq's view that NU is first and foremost a socio-religious, rather than party-political, organisation. Secondly, it argues that the ulama are the mainstay and central strength of the organisation. These two matters are, in fact, closely related, for in advancing an argument for the special status of ulama in general, and the Syuriah in particular, Siddiq was also criticising the dominant role

played by 'politicians' in NU over the past two decades, the foremost of these being Idham Chalid, chairman-general from 1956 to 1984. The book also documents a surprising degree of openness towards ijtihad. Indeed it is significant that Siddiq should discuss ijtihad given that it remains the subject of heated debate. Discussion of the Text Khitthah Nahdliyah begins with a long foreword in which Siddiq argues that the views set down represent the opinions held in common by generations of NU kiai beginning with NU's founding fathers. These opinions and points of view, he explains, have traditionally been passed down from teacher to student and have enjoyed a central position in NU's oral tradition but, for a variety of reasons, have never been recorded until now. Siddiq then proceeds to review NU history from the organisation's foundation in 1926 up till the present. He advances the argument that the oral tradition of the ulama was partially stifled by the rise of non-ulama in NU following the organisation's transformation into a political party in 1952. NU's forced merger with PPP in 1973 and its consequent reduction in party-political activity, Siddiq suggests, marked the beginning of a return to the organisation's core socio-religious activity. In chapter one Siddiq outlines the foundations of the NU tradition in its reliance on the Qur'an and the Sunnah. Most of this chapter reflects traditional Sunni Muslim belief and requires no further comment here. In the light of Siddiq's emphasis throughout the 1980s on NU returning to its Khittah 1926, to its original charter as an essentially socio-religious organisation, the concluding portion of chapter one, however is worth quoting in full: Reflecting And Delineating Religious Character 1. The Religious Character of Nahdlatul Ulama is reflected in a number of matters: a. It was established out of religious motives, not because of political or economic inducements or any other such things. b. It is based on religiosity to the extent that all aspects 6 behaviour and operational characteristics are governed by and are in keeping with the norms of religious teaching and law. c. Its aspirations are religious aspirations, namely: 'the

glory of Islam and its followers' ('lzzul Islam wal Muslim') in 'taking God's mercy throughout all creation' (Rahmatan lil aalimin).3 d. Giving priority to activities that have direct links with religious matters such as: ritual prayer (ubudiyyah), social engagement (mabarrot), missionary activity (da'wah), religious education (ma'arif) and religious charity (mu'amalah) and so forth. Activities in other fields are limited to the extent that they support and requirements of our religious struggle. 2. This Religious Character, delineated in certain strategies, and realised in certain prime activities, is intended to give first importance to: a. Building up the character of Muslims so that they are able to bring their lives into harmony with the demands of life in moving towards the realisation of a truly Islamic Society (Jama'ah Islamiyyah). b. Encouraging and guiding the umat, and in particular its individual members, to have both the desire and the ability to carry out activities that are beneficial and congruent with the great struggle to glorify the Faith of God. c. Organising these activities in the context of the struggle and in accordance with a method of work and approach to management based on the principle of discussion and consultation. The Religious Character of Nahdlatul Ulama does not merely give colour to, or merely inspire but rather both inspires, colours and becomes a point of reference to every single activity, whether organisational or personal. In chapter two Siddiq further develops the argument that NU is pre-eminently a religious organisation by turning his attention to the position of ulama: Ulama as the mainstay of Nahdlatul Ulama 1. It is no mere coincidence that the name 'Nahdlatul Ulama', which means the Awakening of the Ulama was chosen for this association. The choosing of this name rather than, say, Nahdlatul Muslimin or Nahdlatul Ummah, is proof of how important and unique is the position of ulama within the body of Nahdlatul Ulama. Where some organisations have as the core of their strength workers, farmers, intellectuals, government

fulfil the

officers or professionals, or any one of a variety of other groups, Nahdlatul Ulama rests firmly in its choice of ulama as its mainstay, core strength and central pillar on which all else depends. 2. The choice af ulame as the central pillar of the Nahdlatul Ulama is based on two fundamental considerations: a. As a religious organisation it is necessary that the focus of strength is on those who are its strongest figures and who can be most relied upon in spiritual, mental and scholarly matters and in matters of good works and religious character, that is to say, the ulama. b. Even an ulama with the smallest circle of followers and most limited field of influence will, nevertheless, possess authority and influence over his santri, or students, and over his former santri and students, each of whom has returned to their communities and to a variety of positions with varying degrees of potential. And so the ulama possess a channel of authority that is able to pierce the limits of organisational groupings, and the limits of their local district so as to reach out to all corners of the country, and even beyond. 3. The relationship between an ulama and his santri, or students, does not cease with the conclusion of their period of studies together, as is the case with a university lecturer and his students. This spiritual and affectionate relationship between an ulama and his santri continues on, even to the point where it binds the family of the kiai with that of the santri. 4. This relationship is more a spiritual relationship (bathiniyyah ideologis-based on spiritual ideology) than it is a formal organisational relationship, to the extent that a Nahdlatul Ulama kiai is not merely a kiai to members of Nahdlatul Ulama alone but is at the same time a kiai to the whole of society. The Institution of the Syuriah 5. The authority, influence and role af ulame which is well entrenched (with or without formal positions of a formal or organisational nature), is made concrete within Nahdlatul Ulama in a formal and organisational manner through the structure of leadership and management, that is to say through the establishment of the institution of the Syuriah, with all of its various levels, beginning

with the centre and proceeding out to the branches. This institution, with its system of teachers, Rais (Head), Wakil Rais [Deputy Head], Katib (Secretary) and its A'dla (members of the board of directors), is exclusively set aside for ulama uddin, that is those ulama who possess both a high level of religious learning and an appropriate level of spiritual maturity and moral character. 6. This institution, as an institution (not on the basis of individuals in their own right) possesses unique authority and plays a unique role: a. In matters of declarations on religious law (fatwa), their opinion determines matters for, and is binding upon, the entire body of the organisation, including the operational leaders (the Directors of the Tanfidziah), and, in fact often spreads out to the entirety of the Muslim community. b. In matters of determining the conceptual outlook, Program and broad outline of the policy of the struggle, it works in parallel with the Tanfidziah (general directors). c. In operational matters, leadership lies with the Tanfidziah, whilst the Syuriah acts in a collegial fashion in a supervisory role. d. In ail this the Syuriah retains for itself certain tasks in that is: (i) Discussing religious matters (masa-il diniyyah), especially in evaluating actual (waqi'ah) matters that have arisen in society from the view point of religion. (ii) Working to overcome, resolve and pacify (Ishlah Dzatil bain) in matters of difference of opinion between those members of organisation that look to the Syuriah for assistance. (iii)Preparing and developing the essential elements of the material used in da'wah and related religious activities (amaliyyah diniyyah). Alongside all of this it also functions To guide society, especially in matters of a religious and spiritual nature. 7. Such is the primacy of the position ulama within Nahdlatul Ulama, that a member of Nahdlatul Ulama, no matt er what their attainment and prestige in other fields (in management, in holding of office and in profession), must be willing to place themself under the guidance of

its own field,

the ulama. Siddiq concludes the chapter with a section discussing the criteria for ulama. The discussion here follows a reasonably conventional line and does not warrant further comment except for one point. In the final two paragraphs of the chapter Siddiq politely makes the point that not all those who are called 'ulama' deserve the title: 11 .... At certain times, and in certain circles, it is not always possible to find ulama who one hundred percent fulfil the above requirements. Like all other human beings ulama also suffer from weaknesses and shortcomings. Nevertheless, at the very least, it is to be hoped that Nahdlatul Ulama ulama strive to improve themselves, to raise their own standards, so as to achieve the standards outlined above. It is not everyone who is knowledgable about religion that can take the title 'ulama', much less those who 'ulamaise' themselves or are 'ulamaised' by others in a corruption of the true understanding of what it means to be an ulama." Chapter three, simply titled Ahlus sunnah wal jamma'ah (the conventional title by which traditionalist Sunni Muslims identify themselves which translates roughly as 'The People of the Tradition and the Assembly') is for the most part a conventional treatment of the essential elements of traditionalist thought. Nevertheless, the summary given in the concluding paragraph is worth quoting in full: Characteristics 12. Because ahlus sunnah wal jama'ah (The Tradition and the Assembly) is no more or less than the pure Teaching of Islam as it was set forth and put into practice by the Blessed Prophet, together with his Companions, its essential nature (characteristics) are the characteristics Religion itself. The most essential characteristics are: a. The principle of At Tawassurh, or the middle path, as Opposed to extremism (tatharruf), either to the extreme right or to the extreme left. b. The aim of Rahmatan Lil Alamin, spreading mercy throughout all of creation. It is significant that Siddiq gives such emphasis to the

of that

principle of tawassuth (moderation, or the middle path). He is saying, in effect, that Islam is characterised two things: moderation and mercy. Siddiq raises tawassuth to the very highest level of importance. In fact Siddiq devotes one entire chapter, chapter six, entitled: The Characteristics of AtTawassuth and I'tidal (justice) to this subject. The following paragraph from that chapter summarises his thinking on the matter: 3. At Tawassuth (including al-i'tidal and at-tawazun), or moderation, does not mean complete compromise and does not mean the blending together of a range of elements (syncretism). Nor is it a matter of excluding oneself from] rejecting certain combinations of elements. The characteristics of At Tawassuth begin with the fact that God placed within Islam all manner of good things, and it is definitely the case that all those good things are to be found between the two limits of Tatharruf, or the tendency to go to extremes. The principles behind, and characteristics of, At Tawassuth, which form the characteristics of lslam, must be applied in every field, so that Islam and the attitude and behaviour of Muslims constantly become the yardstick of righteousness and the example for all of humanity. Finally, it is necessary to give some attention to chapter five, 'The System of Following Mazhab' (System Bermadzhab). It discusses the issue of ijtihad and is the only chapter that is at all provocative. Naturally, Siddiq is not calling for the widespread practise of ijtihad, for even in the late 1990s such an approach would be unacceptable for a senior NU ulama, but he leaves open the possibility that ijtihad may be legitimately carried out: The Essence of the System of Following Mazhab 13. Essentially, the System of Following Mazhab does not set up the System of Ijtihad against the System of Taqlid [following accepted legal opinions], but rather sets forth the two systems in a balanced fashion. Each 6 the two systems represents a sound system which should be employed by all Muslims to obtain the pure Teaching of Islam. But each one must be appropriate to the individual using it, for they should not be used by the wrong people nor should they be misapplied. Islam, Pancasila Dan Ukhuwah Islamiyah This brief book, a mere 27 pages in length, is, like Khitthah

Nahdliyah, of much greater significance than its modest size and format would suggest. The book is valuable for the way in which it documents the thought of Siddiq in the early stages of the reform process within NU. It can be argued that Siddiq's thought, as it is documented in Khitthah Nahdliyah and Islam, Pancasila dan Ukhuwah Islamiyah, changed very little between 1979 and 1985, for the latter picks up on many of the points raised in the former. In both books Siddiq speaks of tawassuth, ijtihad, tolerance and open-mindedness. The later book, however, gives greater attention to these points and generally discusses them in a more straightforward fashion. Whereas in Khitthah Nahdliyah, Siddiq was careful not to be seen to depart from the standard traditionalist discourse, in Islam, Pancasila dan Ukhuwah Islamiyah he is much more openly adopting a progressive position. Moreover, he deliberately focuses on the galvanised debate at the 1983 Munas and 1984 Congress, in particular on the relationship between Islam and Pancasila. In a similar fashion to Khitthah Nahdliyah, this book owes its existence to the efforts of another member of the Situbondo reform group, Fahmi Saifuddin, who conducted several interviews with Achmad Siddiq. Fahmi was assisted by Muchith Muzadi in recording and transcribing these interviews, and then arranging them under the sub-headings found in this book. Final editing was undertaken by Mohammad Ichwan Sam. The book then, is the product of reform-minded younger people within NU to record for posterity the thought of the reform movement's senior figure. Islam, Pancasila dan Ukhuwah Islamiyah, is divided into four sections. Each one of these four sections contains noteworthy material and will be dealt with in turn. Discussion of the Text In the first section of the text the discussion commences with Siddiq speaking about the nature of General Revelation, or the doctrine that God has revealed Himself in a general fashion through His creation to all people in a manner that forms the backdrop for the Specific Revelation that comes with His prophets and the revealed books that they transmitted. Invoking the concept of General Revelation Siddiq argues that Islam is open to accepting certain elements of pre-islamic cultures and beliefs where they are congruent with the revelation that came with Islam. Siddiq then builds on this to introduce the concept of tawassuth and the importance of moderation. Finally, the section closes with a discussion of ijtihad, where Siddiq once

again leaves open the possibility that ijtihad might occur. Understanding the Broad Themes of Islam Question: Kiai, how can the essential structure be best understood? Answer: Islam is the name by which the Religion of God (Dinullah) is known. It consists of certain stipulation's, instructions, guidelines, directions, commands, prohibitions and so forth, that are established by God for the well-being of humankind in this world and in the world to come. ... Question: Can you go into this in greater detail? Answer: Certainly. Firstly we need to understand that the 'grand strategy' which God has established for the governance of all of his creatures has been set forth in two matters determined by God: a. The Way of God (Sunnatullah), that is to say, the determination of God to deal with all of His creatures according to the nature and characteristics which He has established for each one of them, including for their relations with each other. b. The Religion of God (Dinullah), that is to say, the teachings, instructions, guidelines and arrangements which are placed upon people to be undertaken in every sphere of life as they carry out their duties as caliphs, or representatives of God, in this world. Naturally, there is so complete a degree of convergence and congruence between the Way of God and the Religion of God that the course and development of the natural world can not be separated from the 'grand schema' and 'sovereign control' of God (i.e., the Qadha, or sovereignty of God and the Qadr, or Divine Will), in moving towards the target that He has determined, that is to say His merciful plan for creation. Because of this the Religion of God (Dinullah) is universal in its characteristics.... Consequently, it is logical that Islam acknowledges that positive values can be found to have already developed in individuals, or groups of people, prior to their accepting the teaching of Islam. Islam does not adopt an attitude of rejecting, destroying or eliminating, a priori, these 'old'

values, but rather seeks to accommodate them, in a selective and balanced fashion as follows: a. There are those that need to be totally corrected. b. There are those that need to be partially corrected. c. There are those that have to be filled in and added to. d. There are those that need to be fortified and perfected. ... Islam, as the Religion of God, represents something that is complete and comprehensive in all of its aspects (its totality).... The other chief characteristic of Islam is 'tawassuth' (the attitude of looking for a middle path), avoiding extremes. This characteristic is reflected in several aspects of Islam and in their application. Monotheism (akidah) is midway between polytheism and atheism. Islamic devotional practises are at a midpoint between being matters of compulsion and matters of relaxed accommodation. And *********** 1 KH Achmad Siddiq, Khitthah Nahdliyah, Persatuan Bangil, (2nd 2 printing), Jakarta, 1980. KH Achmad Siddiq, Islam, Pancasila dan Ukhuwah Islamiyah: Wawancara dengan Rois Aam PBNU KH Achmad Siddiq, Lajnah Ta'lif wan Nasyr PBNU, Jakarta, 1985. 3 The approach taken to the transliteration of Arabic words in these excerpts is the same as that used elsewhere in this volume, that is, following modem Indonesian conventions as reflected in the Kamus Besar Bahasa Indonesia. Arabic terms which appear in parenthesis have the same spelling as in the original. Islamic philanthropy (kedermawanan) occupies a position midway between lavishness and thrift. Tawassuth also forms a guiding principle in the approach to enjoining good works and forbidding evil, as it does also in regards to social relations in a plural society. Tawassuth in Islam, however, is not the product of a dialectical process in which thesis and anthesis give rise to synthesis. Tawassuth in Islam is established by God in conformity with His 'strategy' and 'grand schema'. .. Question: Can you explain the links between these understandings of the teachings and laws of Islam and the problem of ijtihad? Answer:

The Qur'an, which is also referred to as God's word and God's book, and the Hadis, which is also referred to as the way, or the way of the Prophet of God, represent the source of Islamic teaching and Islamic law. In those matters where problems or issues are encountered that are not clearly explained in the Qur'an and the Hadis, ijtihad is carried out by suitably qualified (the conditions that must be met are substantial) experts. Ijtihad is the harnessing of mental faculties, using approved and reliable methodology based on the Qur'an and the Hadis, to research a conclusion on a matter that is not clearly explained in the Qur'an and the Hadis. Those who meet the requirements are welcome to conduct their own ijtihad. Whilst those who do not meet the requirements have the opportunity to follow the ijtihad of those whose ability can be trusted. In this matter every Muslim is encouraged to constantly strive to raise their level of ability to understand the teaching of Islam by means which lead back to its sources (the Qur'an and the Hadis). The second part of the book is a relatively short section dealing in a very general fashion with the role of Islam in the development of the Indonesian nation. Towards the close of this section Siddiq speaks about religious tolerance and about the freedom for acculturated expressions of Islam that derives from the universality of Islam II. Islam And Indonesia Question: What then, do we say of the universality of Islam? Answer: Islam is, by nature, universal, being for all people everywhere in the world, whilst at the same time being, in its very essence, natural, and suited to the characteristics and needs of humankind in general. The universality of Islam is not realised in absolute uniformity in every matter for the entirety of humanity throughout the world. There are those matters which are fixed and absolute and there are those matters which are only fixed within broad outlines, and whose detail must be worked out by the people concerned. In this way, Islam can be applied anywhere, at anytime, by anyone, for the purpose of 'being the bearer of mercy to the whole of creation' (rahmatan lil aalamin). Islam acknowledges the equal worth and status of all people, and the universal nature of certain characteristics and

typical features of all human beings, whilst at the same time, acknowledging the reality that humanity consists of a wide variety of groups (people groups, ethnic groups and so forth) and that each group possesses unique characteristics, personalities and needs that do not always agree with one another. For this reason, relations between individuals and groups must be conducted on the basis of mutual understanding and mutual respect, because the measure of a person is only to be found in the quality of their submission to God. Within certain limits, each individual or group has the opportunity to seek out their own distinctive style based on the Religion of God (Dinullah). In the third and longest section of the book Siddiq addresses the issue of Pancasila and defends his support for it being adopted as the asas tunggal or 'sole basis' of NU in accordance with the government's demands. Siddiq argues, in effect, that the adoption of Pancasila as the asas tunggal of NU is not only defensible but desirable, for not only is Pancasila not antithetical to Islam it is, in its essential elements, congruent with the principles of Islam. It is important to note, however, that the discussion in this section concludes with Siddiq asserting that the avoidance of extremes also applies to the application and use of Pancasila. III. The Relationship Between Pancasila And Islam Question: On what basis do Muslims in Indonesia accept Pancasila? Answer: Muslims in Indonesia accept Pancasila as the basis of the Indonesian state on the basis of the following principles: a. That Muslims, through their leaders, played an active part in the formulation and achievement of consensus regarding the basis of the constitution. b. That the noble values of Pancasila which were formulated in the preface to the 1945 constitution are in agreement with an Islamic point of view and are justified on that basis. Question: Can you explain further regarding the relationship between Pancasila as a national and state ideology and Islam? Answer: There are a wide variety of formulations concerning what is meant by the word 'ideology'. At the heart of it,

however, what is meant by ideology are those matters that have to do with aspirations and longed for ambitions tie. the philosophy behind them, the program of struggle, its strategic tactics, its target, and so forth). The complex nature of the issues bound up in an ideology is such that it influences the character and day-today behaviour of its adherents. To the point where there are some who, having exaggerated matters, believe that ideology is the same as religion. The truth is that, no matter how impressive ideology might be, it remains merely the product of human thought, and does not achieve the status of being a religion. The same is true of Pancasila as Indonesia's national ideology. Islam is a revelation from God, not the product of human thought, nor even the product of our Prophet's thought. Religion (Islam) is a 'divine creation' (Wadl'un Ilahiyun). A believer is permitted to hold to various philosophical positions, ideologies, cultural orientations, convictions about the basis of the state and so on, provided that these ideologies and so forth are not at odds with the teachings 6 their religion, and provided that they are able to place both religion and ideology in their rightful places. Ideology and religion do not represent two alternatives from which only one can be chosen and the other discarded. In the relationship between religion and Pancasila both can proceed along together each supporting the other and each strengthening the other. The two do not stand in opposition to each other, and they must not be made out to stand in opposition to the other. Each can be practised and lived out together with the other; there is no need to choose one and reject or oppose the other. For it is indeed very true, as the government has been at pains to point out, that Pancasila will not be religified and religion will not be pancasilafied. To set forth this policy in detail, however, is not an easy thing. And indeed, one of the biggest problems facing the Indonesian people in this present age is the problem of how to apportion the relationship between Pancasila and religion. In so doing there will come proof that in this nation and society that holds to Pancasila, on the one hand, that religion can be carried out in a better fashion, and on the other hand, that the religious communities represent the backbone of the national ideology of Pancasila. Question: Do you have any other thoughts on this matter?

Answer: It can be concluded from the above that, viewed from a number of angles, whether from the point of view of history, philosophy or law, there is nothing which requires religion (Islam) to be set in opposition to Pancasila. Differences d opinion usually arise in terms of evaluating its practical implementation on the basis of the perception that it is being used in an excessive or unbalanced way. If in religion there is an injunction to avoid 'extremes in the practise of religion teal ghuluwwu fiddin)', then it is most certainly appropriate to endeavour to prevent 'extremes in the practise of Pancasila teal ghuluwwu fil Pancasila)'. Moreover, the attitude of extremism represents over-reacting. And that is not a good thing. It is in the interests of all Indonesians (and not just those who are staunchly religious) that genuine national stability is fostered in a genuine fashion, in order to achieve the aspirations and ideals of independence (kemerdekaan), that is to say, the outward and inward prosperity of the entire nation. Clarity of vision and genuineness of attitude towards the national ideology represent issues of prime importance in the achieving of this aim. Confusion of vision and mistaken attitudes in these matters represent a great obstacle, if not the greatest of obstacles. The first step towards clarity is to be genuine To be genuine in looking at a certain thing and genuine in terms of attitude towards that thing, neither over-rating it nor underrating it. We look upon all religions as being genuine and right (wadl'un ilaahiyyun), we look upon Pancasila as also being genuine and right (as wadl'un basyariyun), we then place each in its appropriate place, and we treat each in a genuine and right fashion as well. We frequently encounter opinions that are said to be 'in the name of Islam' or 'in the name of Pancasila', but we can ask the question: is the holder of this opinion qualified to reflect the position of Islam or the position of Pancasila. This age is an age in which Pancasila (whose principles we have already accepted) is in the process of being embodied in formulations. A period such as this is d enormous importance to the life of the nation into the distant future. We must work hard to consolidate our national ideology with formulations which themselves have been soundly consolidated. But the consolidation of these formulations can only be achieved with great concern for detail and with

the utmost clarity of mind. Dialogue after dialogue must be undertaken with great earnestness and with openness of mind. The interests of the religious communities in Indonesia, and the Islamic community in particular, are very much bound up with these efforts to consolidate the role of religion in the life and experience of the national ideology, and, on the other hand, in this Pancasila nation religion is lived out and worked out in best and healthiest of ways. In the concluding section of the book Siddiq deals with the issue of how to balance the demands of Islamic unity (ukhuwah, the term used here by Siddiq, literally means brotherhood, but also has connotations of fellowship and unity) and the demands of national development. Siddiq argues that the main obstacles to the achieving a oneness in fellowship are an unhealthy sense of superiority or pride on the part of one group towards another, together with suspicion and mistrust. These are aggravated by a certain close-mindedness on certain issues relating to minor points of doctrine. For this to be overcome, he argues, Indonesian Muslims need to work on developing a unity of vision and they also need to work on developing their natural inclination towards tolerance. IV. The Development of Islamic Brotherhood and National Integration Question: On what basis then, can the aspirations of Indonesia's Muslims be formed? Answer: Islam by its very nature is universal in scope. And it is precisely for this reason that, within certain limits, Islam gives scope to (and in fact encourages) the growth and development of human creativity in the manner in which the teachings of Islam are put into practise, so that every group of people, and not just one particular group, are able to follow Islam. In this way, within certain limits, each group of Muslims can possess their own unique characteristics which, in a relative and graduated fashion, will differ from other groups of Muslims. In my opinion, Indonesian Muslims, generally speaking, possess the following particular characteristics: a. They are more orderly and careful in carrying out their religious devotions (ibadah). b. They are more tolerant of differences in opinion.

c. They remain loyal to their own group (people group and nation) without diminishing their faithfulness to the universality of Islam. The main key to the growth and development of the unit of Islam is oneness of vision, especially in several matters 6 central importance, without rejecting points of difference in non-essential matters. The healthy development of Islamic unity in Indonesia is not only of benefit to Indonesian Muslims themselves, but also benefits the nation and the people of Indonesia in general, and Muslims throughout the world. Conclusion These brief records of Siddiq's thought demonstrate the way in which he is able to draw upon the traditionalist emphasis on tawassuth and tolerance to assist NU adapt to social change. Moreover, they illustrate the way in which a traditionalist ulama is able to accept innovation in the form of formulations such as Pancasila without deviating from the traditionalist discourse. Chapter Six The 28th Congress of the Nahdlatul Ulama: Power Struggle and Social concerns* Martin van Bruinessen On 25-28 November 1989 the Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) held its 28th Congress in the pesantren Al-Munawwir in Krapyak, a little south of Yogyakarta.1 It was the first congress since the crucial one of Situbondo in 1984, which had made conciliatory gestures towards the government, accepted Pancasila as the sole foundation, and elected a new and younger leadership team. The most prominent men of the new team, Achmad Siddiq and Abdurrahman Wahid, were 'accommodationists' like most NU leaders before them; more clearly than many others, however, they were so out of principle rather than mere expedience. They steered the NU away from its earlier course of confrontation with the government and strictly enforced its definitive break with the Muslim political party PPP. Over the past five years, there had been much criticism of their leadership and policies, and especially of the often controversial public behaviour and utterances of Abdurrahman Wahid. It was widely known that the relations between them and several other board members were less than harmonious,

reflecting a struggle between different factions in the NU as well as a conflict of opinion about real issues. Within the NU ranks, and even within the board, there was much dissatisfaction with the complete withdrawal from 'practical politics'. Those members loyal to the PPP resented Wahid's active efforts to 'deflate' this party prior to the 1987 elections. Others complained that the board did not deliver on its promises, that there had been too much talk and too little action. The nonagenarian Kiai As'ad Syamsul Arifin of Situbondo, presented in the press as the powerful man behind the screen, was openly disaffected with Abdurrahman Wahid, whose election he had secured five years earlier, when he hosted the 27th congress. The partisans of another grand old man, Idham Chalid, who had been chairman for over a quarter century, resented the way Idham had been dumped by an internal coup in 1982 and his faction virtually eliminated from the board at the Situbondo congress. The 1989 congress was to be a test for the popularity of leaders and policies, and a trial of strength for the various factions. It was also one of the stages on which the power struggle within the military-political elite, preparing for the post-Suharto era or another Suharto presidential term in 1993 was acted out. President Suharto himself opened the congress with a speech underlining that two decades of mutual mistrust between the government and the NU had definitively ended. Consistent with his recent general approach, he clearly courted Muslim opinion. The other major actors also put in appearance: in separate sessions, Minister of the Interior Rudini, Minister of Defence and Security L.B. Moerdani, Secretary of State Moerdiono and Armed Forces Chief Try Sutrisno each gave a speech, Vice-President Sudharmono had a few days earlier opened the congress of NU-affiliated tarekat (mystical orders) that preceded the NU congress. Several of these contenders lobbied actively to influence the outcome of the conference, putting their weight behind favoured factions. Their presence is an indication of the political importance attributed to the NU, which is the organisation with by far the largest mass following in the country. Fringe Activities at the Congress The election of a new board, being the most exciting activity of the congress, was set for the fourth and last day. The first three days were devoted to the standard fare of congresses; addresses by important persons, accounts by the board, comments by the regional branches, discussions on the programme and on religious questions. And of course to the

important business of meeting old friends and acquaintances. For many of the kiai, especially the less prominent ones, an NU congress or munas (national conference) is a unique opportunity for meeting many colleagues and discussing matters of common interest. Some seemed to have come for that purpose only and did not even attend the sessions, leaving this to younger members of their regional branch. Many of the more prominent kiai, incidentally, stayed away from the sessions too, presumably because they were engaged in intense lobbying, knowing that whatever the formal procedures were, the important decisions were not to be taken in the sessions but elsewhere. In the margins of the congress a lively bustle went on deep into the night. Tens of thousands who were not delegates had also flocked to Krapyak, as supporters and sympathisers, or simply out of curiosity. The city of Yogyakarta had set up a large fair nearby, where one could find food and drink, books, brochures and calligraphy, T-shirts and handbags and all sorts of other cheap souvenirs. NU-affiliated brassbands paraded around, at times even drowning out the discussion in the conference sessions; in the evenings the cream of the country's Javanese preachers competed in delivering public sermons. The atmosphere was not unlike that of a great pilgrimage, and to many of those present it seemed, in fact, to be one. The opening of the congress, by Suharto, was not without its symbolism-carefully planned no doubt. After reading his very conciliatory speech, he formally opened the congress by beating a large bedug, a drum of the type used in traditional mosques to mark the times of prayer. He surprised everyone by beating the complex pattern that usually only the trained santri can produce. The message was not lost on the Javanese in the audience. Someone told me, 'this means that he must often have beaten the mosque drum in his youth, So in a way he is one of us', and others agreed. The enormous bedug, it transpired moreover, belonged to the family in which Suharto had grown up as an adoptive son; it had been specially lent to the pesantren for this occasion. (The pesantren had, of course, its own bedug but that of more modest size). After Suharto left, the bedug remained in place, its bulk and symbolism dominating the following proceedings. Of all the prominent guests it was General Try Sutrisno who Was given the warmest welcome--which is not surprising, since he is the first Javanese santri to become supreme commander of the armed forces. During his speech, which resounded with Islamic phrases, the audience was entranced and when he was finished it broke into the Shalawat Badar (a prayer song that is often sung in emotional circumstances). Hundreds rushed from

their seats and crowded about him, trying to shake his hands or to embrace him. Moerdani's appearance at the congress was much less successful. Openly in conflict With Suharto, he did not accompany him for the opening celebration (as did the other ministers attending) but came along in the evening. Five years earlier, in Situbondo, he had been enthusiastically cheered by the congress and spontaneously embraced by kiai, in a celebration of reconciliation between the NU and the Armed Forces. The contrast that his present reception made could hardly be starker. There was hardly any reaction when he entered, apparent disinterest during his speech (which contained tough words on national security and denunciations of foreign humans rights activists, and oblique reference to Wahid's international contacts). When he ended with an as-salam alaykum hardly anybody answered. None in the audience rose to their feet and tried to shake his hand, as people did to all the other speakers. It became obvious that, in his conflict with Suharto, Moerdani cannot count on the NU and its vast rural constituency as a power base. Neither the masses nor the elite of the NU are at present inclined to put their hopes in him. His lobbying on behalf of Kiai As'ad and his faction during the following days, through envoys, remained without effect too. None of As'ad's favoured candidates ended up in the board that was later elected. The Siddiq-Wahid Team, Supporters and Opponents Achmad Siddiq and Abdurrahman Wahid were ultimately reelected but this was by no means a foregone conclusion when the congress began. During the preceding few weeks, the press had resounded with criticism of them--more in fact than was later heard at the congress itself. Journalists had interviewed many of their opponents, and various names of counter-candidates had been put forward. A name repeatedly mentioned as the favourite replacement of Siddiq was Idham Chalid, while various other Young board members were suggested as replacements for Abdurrahman Wahid. Idham Chalid represented a strong alliance of interests. Being a Banjarese from South Kalimantan, he almost automatically drew support from the non-Javanese members in cases where the differential interests of East Java versus the outer regions clashed. As the NU's most experienced politician, a master of patronage management, he moreover had still strong support both in sections of the state apparatus and with numerous local branch boards that longed for his style of clientelist politics. Since his disgraceful demise as chairman-general he had restricted

his activities to the association of tarekat, a daughter organisation of NU, where he had strengthened his ties with some influential Javanese tarekat-kiai who were opposed to Abdurrahman Wahid. Idham himself had repeatedly declared, in private and public, that he was quite contented with his position in the tarekat union and that he had no further ambitions. This failed to convince everyone who knew him; it was not the first time he had made such statements, only to be persuaded later by his faithful supporters that he should serve another term. He had moreover to take care of his allies, such as the younger Chalid Mawardi (a Central Javanese). Mawardi would have been a strong candidate for the chairmanship in 1984 had he not just been made ambassador to Syria then, as if to clear the way for the new Wahid-Siddiq team. He had returned to Indonesia a year before the 1989 congress and obviously needed a job equal to his experience and stature. Another factor to be reckoned with was Kiai As'ad, who had emerged as a powerful and strong-willed NU leader in the early 1980s. Although not known as very learned, he could lay claim to authority because he was one of the few surviving members who had played a part, however marginal, in the NU's founding. Unlike Idham, he had repeatedly used the press to publicise his disaffection with Abdurrahman Wahid and, citing some of the latter's controversial statements,2 he demanded his head. There were also more earthly reasons for his disaffection, notably the current board's failure to channel to him the sort of government largesse that he felt was his due. He had earlier played, allegedly for similar reasons, a major part in the coup deposing Idham Chalid. The aged kiai had the support of Moerdani, whose major remaining NU contact he was, and who must have been less than pleased with Abdurrahman Wahid's drifting away from him. An influential ally of Kiai As'ad, who shared his criticism of Abdurrahman Wahid, was the aged politician Masjkur, a former NU chairman. Many other elderly kiai, too, were uneasy with Abdurrahman Wahid's unconventional behaviour and often provocative statements--most which they only knew through distorted press reports.3 He had expressed appreciation for Shi'a Islam and the rationalist theology of the Mu'tazilah--both taboo in NU circles--and claimed that Islam need not be Arab but could legitimately be Indonesianised. He had even once dared to criticise the Muslim community in front of a Christian audience. He also stimulated critical analysis of kitab kuning, the religious books studied in the pesantren, instead of their reverent memorisation, and thereby was unsettling one of the formerly unshakeable foundations of the kiai's position. The present

congress was in fact preceded by a seminar in which such texts were critically discussed and their social relevance questioned. A group of alarmed kiai had called for a boycott of the seminar because of the shocking ideas put forward at previous seminars by some of the younger participants who enthusiastically questioned vested standpoints. Strong opposition came also, understandably, from those who were still committed to PPP. They obviously resented the formal break with this party, and moreover, Abdurrahman Wahid's efforts to weaken this party in the 1987 elections. Even among those who were disaffected with Naro's PPP, there were many who strongly objected to the depoliticisation of the NU. In fact, at a conference (a 'national consultation' or munas of NU ulama) in 1987, a group of politicians had attempted to get rid of Wahid and had proposed that the NU become a political party again, independent from PPP. The recent PPP congress, earlier in 1989, had seen Naro's demise and the rise of several NU members to leading positions. This obviously strengthened the hand of those favouring continued involvement in practical politics. Even among those who were opposed to a return to PPP, such as the tough-speaking politician Jusuf Hasjim,4 there was nevertheless uneasiness with the 'accommodationist' attitude of the leading tandem. Wahid had in 1988 accepted an appointment to the National Assembly (MPR), in which he had joined the Golkar group, thus hurting the credibility of his opposition to practical polities. And Achmad Siddiq, Jusuf told the press, was rarely available for discussion of important issues with the other board members, preferring to discuss them over their heads, directly with the president. On the eve of the conference, another opponent sent around a pamphlet of the opposite tenor, accusing Wahid of dangerous radicalism. It claimed that he had aroused the ire of the president by his involvement in protests by a group of NGOs (nongovernment organisations) to the World Bank over a controversial government project.5 This was the criticism that hit hardest and was potentially most damaging. The rank and file of the NU and the delegates at the congress, much as they liked some of Wahid's innovative ideas, did not wish the NU to get into the government's bad books again. They would not vote for a chairman who could jeopardise the improved relations with the government. In his account to the congress, Wahid was to dwell long upon the incident and to emphasise that the president had accepted his apologies. Abdurrahman Wahid's strongest support (but not necessarily that of the authoritarian Achmad Siddiq) lay not with the kiai

but with the boards of the local branches, which were generally dominated by younger people. Many of them liked his ideas about community development, others were small businessmen who had profited from the NU's accommodation with government. While many of the kiai were afraid of change, these people wanted only more of it, aware that the NU presents one of the most backward segments of society. Abdurrahman Wahid, precisely because of the qualities that made him so seemingly unrepresentative of the NU milieu, was in their eyes the only person capable of transforming the NU and leading its constituency towards a more equal participation in the political and economic life of lndonesian society. Creating a Favourable Setting for Re-election The incumbent board had of course certain options to influence the outcome of the congress. The choice of Krapyak as the venue, for instance, was very significant. The previous congress, as well as an important conference a year earlier, had both been held at Situbondo and thereby shored up Kiai As'ad's position and prestige. Kiai As'ad had proposed to convene the 28th congress in his pesantren again--a generous offer, given the considerable cost, but an investment that would certainly pay off if accepted. Siddiq and Wahid had obviously little interest in further enhancing the nonagenarian kiai's claims to guardianship of the NU and judiciously chose for Krapyak. Its kiai, Ali Ma'shum, had acted as the NU's interim president (rais am)6 for the period between the death of Bisri Syansuri in 1980 and the 27th congress in 1984. Kiai Ali was known to be ailing, and the congress would perhaps be the last chance to honour him and acknowledge his services to NU (he died in fact a few weeks after the congress). Moreover, Abdurrahman Wahid had, when still a high school student in Yogyakarta, studied Arabic here, and he had always cultivated a cordial and respectful pupil-teacher relationship with Kiai All. The kiai could be expected to protect Abdurrahman Wahid against the criticism of Kiai As'ad and other senior kiai.7 Another factor of crucial importance was the procedure by which a new board was to be elected. At the Situbondo congress, everything had been laid into the hands of the elderly kiai, who were baptised the 'ahlul halli wal aqdi', the term that Muslim law uses for the elect to whom society entrusts the power of decision.8 In practice this meant that power was in the hands of Kiai As'ad, who was by acclamation chosen as the head of the ahlul halli wal aqdi. It seems that supporters of the SiddiqWahid tandem had deliberately brushed up Kiai As'ad's image as

the grand old man of the NU in order to make this unprecedented method acceptable. Behind the screen, there were hard-nosed negotiations between the various factions in the NU on the composition of the board that the ahlul halli wal aqdi were to choose. As'ad duly appointed Achmad Siddiq and Abdurrahman Wahid but caused a surprise by striking all Idham allies from the agreed-upon list and replacing them with men of his own choice. This composition of the board was the cause of much uneasiness in the following years. It was not surprising, therefore, that Wahid, in the name of the current board, did not propose the 'Islamic' procedure of election by ahlul halli wal aqdi this time but a combination of direct and indirect elections by the delegates from the regions. The rais am with his deputy and the chairman were to be elected directly; together with four other directly elected persons they were to form a committee (formateur) that would appoint the other members of the board. This construction clearly had the merit of giving the new chairman, once elected, a strong hand in selecting to the board persons that he could cooperate with. All insiders knew Abdurrahman Wahid to be extremely frustrated with his experience in the current board, several members of which, he felt, had not worked at all or even sabotaged his own efforts. The only opposition to the proposed procedure (apart from As'ad's partisans) came from Jusuf Hasjim, who favoured indirect elections to all positions--a procedure by which he was likely to exert more influence. On the first day of the congress, the delegates, most of whom did not seem to be aware of the implications of both proposals, adopted by acclamation the procedure proposed by Abdurrahman Wahid. Apart from these judicious procedural preparations, Abdurrahman Wahid also made unprecedented efforts to address the rank and file prior to the congress. In the last few weeks he indefatigably toured the country, visiting most of the provincial branches, listening to complaints and wishes, explaining his views and planned activities. The outer regions often complained of being neglected by the East Java and Jakarta based elite, and these visits were therefore likely to generate some additional goodwill. His last trip, only a few days before the congress, was to Mecca. It was never explicitly said what the objective of this trip was but its symbolic meaning was obvious. Shaikh Muhammad Yasin of Padang, who leads an Islamic school there, is considered by most kiai--including those most critical of Abdurrahman Wahid--as the supreme religious authority. By paying him his respects and asking his blessing for the congress, Abdurrahman improved his moral standing among the kiai. Moreover, many Indonesians believe that a visit to the Holy

City of Islam and performing one's prayers at the Holy Mosque purges him of sins. Not once, during the congress, did Abdurrahman refer to his recent visit to Mecca--it had been reported by the press anyway. In a subtle way he had shown that, however 'strange' he might at times behave and speak, he was still essentially an NU man and shared the moral and spiritual outlook of his organisation. The Old Board Criticised and Defended In the evening of the first day, Abdurrahman Wahid gave the congress his account of the old board's activities. He used this opportunity to emphasise the difference between what he and his potential rivals stood for. As usual his speech was peppered with little jokes, which allowed him to be very critical without sounding insulting. He was not, he said, going to give a brief oral account and then ask the congress for forgiveness, knowing that forgiving is a part of the NU tradition (a not very oblique hint at Idham's performance at the 1979 congress, recorded for posterity by Nakamura [see chapter three)). This time the board had prepared a detailed written account (published in PBNU 1990), so that its merits and shortcomings would be clear. In his speech he would only mention a few important points. He frankly admitted that the board had been unable to live up to its plans and promises (in education and community development for instance) because of internal conflicts or rather, he suggested, because some board members simply refused to carry out his initiatives. Most people understood whom this referred to; the secretary-general whom Kiai As'ad had imposed on him, Anwar Nurris. If we haven't performed well, he joked to the congress, it is really your own fault for you agreed with this board in Situbondo; this time you'd better be more judicious! The concrete implications of the farewell to 'practical politics' still remained too vague, so that conflicting interpretations could co-exist, and he invited the congress to give them some more reflection. Certain contractor members, Wahid said, are wary of losing their tenders if the NU returns to politics. The NU-here he challenged Jusuf Hasjim, the oppositional politician--should be more explicit about where it draws the boundary of 'practical politics'. The" idea of transforming the NU into a political party beside the PPP (first put forward by Mahbub Djunaidy at the 1987 conference, where he attempted to unseat Wahid) was unrealistic. The constitution, it is true, allows for any number of parties, but political life is governed by the decisions of the National Assembly (TAP, or ketetapan MPR) that explicitly allow for only two parties

besides Golkar. He asked the congress to affirm that the withdrawal from party politics was complete and unconditional. But withdrawal from politics, he insisted, should not imply restricting oneself to preaching and praying. The NU has a special body for da'wah (religious propaganda), led by Syukron Ma'mun (a very popular Jakarta-based preacher with a tough tone, who was known to be strongly opposed to Wahid, and whom some wished to put forward as a counter-candidate). But the NU should be more than just a mass organisation for da'wah, it has numerous other functions that need to be further developed (and of which, he seemed to imply, the said orator has little understanding), such as higher Islamic learning and socioeconomic activities. Since the Semarang congress in 1979, the NU had declared social affairs (translated into Arabic as syuun ijtima'iyah so as to sound really Islamic) to be an essential part of its functions. He invited the congress to make more precise what this commitment to social activities meant; in order to stimulate the discussion the board had a draft 'five year plan' prepared. On the second day, delegates from the regions were to give their comments, criticism and suggestions. Each of the twentysix wilayah (corresponding with a province), was given ten minutes. Although the chairman of the session had asked them not to turn it into a speech contest but speak factually, several speakers had little to say but empty phrases. They were jeered by the congress, which showed little of the restraint that is sometimes said to be typical of the Javanese. 'Another Friday sermon!', they mocked, or shouted 'to the point, dong!' The majority of the participants were young and impatient. It also soon became clear that their sympathies were overwhelmingly for Abdurrahman Wahid and that they were fed up with the sanctimonious style of some of his opponents. When there was criticism of the board's performance, the shortcomings were usually attributed to a lack of unity in the board or to unnamed individuals. One delegate criticised the program for being so vague that there was no way in which one could measure how much of it had actually been carried out. The board's management had been extremely weak, he observed, but it had at least had the merit of bringing a new enthusiasm to the NU and improving its contacts with the world around it. This seemed neatly to summarise the opinions of most of the regional delegates. Several already said

_______________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________ Martin van Bruinessen * This article was originally published in Archipel, no.41, 1991, pp. reprinted here with the kind permission of the publishers.

185-200 and is

1 I wish to thank Abdurrahman Wahid for securing me invitations to this congress and that of the NU's tarekat preceding it. I also thank the numerous participants of both congresses who shared with me their knowledge, impressions, perceptions, suppositions and interpretations. My indebtedness to these informants will be clear to any reader, just as it will be obvious that the opinions and interpretations expressed here are my responsibility alone. 2 Particularly his remark that Muslims might just as well say 'good morning' to one another as 'as-salam alaykum'. For Indonesia's selfconscious Muslims, with their 'minority complex', the salam is an important marker of identity, and it was felt (correctly, I believe) that Abdurrahman Wahid intended to break down the barrier between Muslims and non-Muslims (and, for that matter, the less strict Muslims). When he was severely reprimanded by his former teacher, Ali Ma'shum, he humbly apologised to him. Kiai As'ad, incensed perhaps that the apology was not made to him, remained unforgiving. 3 Attempting to neutralise criticism, allies of Wahid explained what he had really said and done. A few weeks before the congress, Kiai Imron Hamzah (president of the provincial board of the NU in East Java) and the journalist Choirul Anam published a book with the catchy title Gus Dur put on trial by the kiai (Hamzah & Anam 1989). It lists the chairman's words and deeds that had most shocked his constituency, each of which is then eloquently explained and defended in Wahid's own words. 4 Jusuf Hasjim is the last surviving son of the NU's chief founder Hasjim Asj'ari and therefore an uncle of Abdurrahman Wahid, who is the eldest son of his elder brother Wahid Hasjim. Relations between uncle and nephew, who can theoretically make conflicting claims to being Hasjim Asj'ari's legitimate successor, are complex but seldom harmonious. 5 A group of NGOs had sent the World Bank a letter detailing the government's treatment of villagers displaced by the (Bank-sponsored) Kedung Ombo dam. The government felt severely embarrassed by the letter, and took reprisals against some of the NGOs. The original idea of the letter had been Wahid's but it was drafted by others, apparently in much more radical terms than he intended. He was obliged to apologise to the president for this letter

6 The NU has a dual board; ultimate authority is with a council of ulama, the Syuriah, led by the rais am, while the executive or Tanfidziah, led by the chairman (ketua umum) is in charge of daily affairs. The first three rais am, Hasjim Asj'ari, Wahab Chasbullah and Bisri Syansuri, were founding members and held this position until their deaths. Achmad Siddiq is the fifth rais am. 7 When the storm first broke over Abdurrahman's controversial 'good morning' remark (note 2 above), Kiai Ali reprimanded him, after which he wrote a letter of apology. For Kiai All, the case was closed herewith, and he was known to be irritated when Kiai As'ad continued beating the war drum over the same affair and demanding another apology (thereby implicitly denying Kiai All's authority). 8 See the entry 'Ahl al-hall wa al-' ak' in the Encyclopaedia of Islam. It had been Achmad Siddiq's proposal to use this 'Islamic' institution, obviously because it was more likely to guarantee the desired outcome than more democratic procedures. Idham Chalid, it should be pointed out, had great influence over many of the local branches thanks to his dispensing patronage for so may years. that in spite of some shortcomings, they wished a new term for the Siddiq-Wahid tandem. More critical voices were hardly heard. Jakarta, which is dominated by anti-Wahid factions, was expected to open an offensive, but by the time its turn to speak had arrived the opposition seemed so much in disarray that no one came to the fore. When, after the other regions, finally a Jakarta delegate spoke, he seemed wary of angering the congress and his criticism Was very muted. South Sulawesi was the only other region that had critical words for Abdurrahman Wahid himself especially for his being too close to Golkar. The moderate critical comments by the official delegate of this province received shrill counterpoint from an unofficial Buginese delegate who, in the resonant and somewhat hysterical voice of a fire-and-brimstone preacher, let fly at Abdurrahman Wahid for his political behaviour and especially his 'weird' ideas, about which the speaker had read in the press. Was Wahid one of those fiends who, although outwardly Muslim, are out to destroy Islam? It was a minor embarrassing incident that only accentuated the near-general consensus that Wahid was the man whom the NU needed at this stage. It was also a reminder that among the rank and file there are many who feel uncomfortable with the new course the NU is embarking upon. After the regions' comments, Wahid, by way of defence, once again systematically listed the criticisms leveled against him and answered the most important charges. He was aware that some of his ideas, especially when reported in unsympathetic media, could hurt other people's sensitivities. He apologised for unintended injury but not for the ideas.

Comparing the NU to a car in which the ulama kept stepping on the brakes, he said there was a need for someone who would step on the gas from time to time, if one wanted to keep moving forward. He reiterated his conviction that the NU cannot afford to refrain from efforts to improve the social and economic situation of its constituency. The government has various minor programmes intended to remedy the severest regional imbalances but continues stimulating a highly unequal development, in which we witness the untrammelled growth of business conglomerates. The Muslims should contribute to finding a middle way, and here lies a major task for the NU. Finally, he reassured the congress that his ideas and the community development approach that he represented were not going to bring the NU into a renewed conflict with the president. Responding to the damaging pamphlet on his being out of official favour, he explained in detail what his connection was with the Kedung Ombo protests and why he had proposed to write a letter to the World Bank. The latter had been drafted by others, he had apologised to the president, the president had gracefully accepted his apologies. He had had assurances that the government was not opposed to his leading the NU for another term. It may seem ironic that in the NU, which in the 1970s had developed into the only significant oppositional force, a leader should campaign for himself by saying that he is acceptable to the government. It was not the first time that Wahid had emphasised how important it was, to his mind, to be in the government's good books. Being oppositional was perhaps more heroic but it did not leave one the freedom to do the things that really matter. The social and economic backwardness of the masses represented by the NU--this is his major theme -need to be remedied before it is too late to catch up with the others. The Muhammadiyah had perceived this much earlier, and it is not incidental that Muhammadiyah has long stood aloof from practical politics. Its members have now become part of the mainstream of Indonesian social and economic life; they can be found in the bureaucracy, in the military and in business circles. NU people--apart from a few successful kiai and some urbane politicians--are as marginal as ever. Carving out a decent place for them without seeming subversive is, in the view of both Achmad Siddiq and Abdurrahman Wahid, an urgent necessity. The more thoughtful members of the NU are generally agreed, and admit that Abdurrahman Wahid, whatever they may think of his other ideas, is the person the NU needs at this juncture. A New Board Elected

The elections finally yielded the result that had by then become obvious-although Idham's supporters were to provide a little surprise. Each province commanded a number of votes equal to the number of its local branches plus one for the provincial board. This added up to 305 votes-of which only 44 belonged to East Java and another 43 to Central Java including the Yogyakarta area.9 In this respect, then, the NU is clearly not at all Javanese dominated! Names of candidates were to be put forward by the branches, after which these would vote between those candidates who had at least forty supporters. For the position of chairman, almost all put forward Abdurrahman Wahid; a few proposed Jusuf Hasjim, but he did not even receive the necessary minimum of forty supporters, so that his nephew could be elected by acclamation. The surprise came in the election of the rais am. Idham Chalid himself, in spite of his probably sincere disclaimer of further ambitions, was put forward as the counter-candidate, and his supporters gave an impressive show of strength by delivering him 116 votes against Achmad Siddiq's 188. The race for the deputy rais am was between two equally learned and broad-minded kiai, the Central Javanese Sahal Mahfudh, one of the pioneers of community development through the pesantren (as well as being an affinal relative of Abdurrahman Wahid), and Ali Yafie, Jakarta-based but originating from Central Sulawesi and a long-time Idham ally. The latter won, with 202 votes, so that Idham's supporters have one of their number in a top position. The outcome of the vote was, of course, not the result of numerous free and independent decisions but was prepared through an intricate process of lobbying and negotiations. Which persons were going to be elected had already been decided between the two major factions, the Siddiq-Wahid group and Idham's, only the margins by which they would win remained unpredictable. Idham's strong showing in the vote for rais am came as a surprise, but it was probably just that: a show of strength and not an attempt to grab that position. The SiddiqWahid team, though feeling closer to Sahal Mahfudz, had told sufficient branches to vote for Ali Yafie in order to let him win, but did not wish Kiai Sahal to end up with too poor a showing either. The composition of the remainder of the board, though formally the responsibility of the elected committee, had also largely been agreed upon before by the various factions, and only minimal last-minute changes were made. Chalid Mawardi, another Idham ally, became one of the five deputy chairmen. Abdurrahman Wahid this time got the people in this team that

he felt he needed, with the dynamic Gaffar Rahman, an old-time friend from East Java, as his secretary-general and Ma'ruf Amin, a learned Bantenese from Jakarta, as the secretary-general of the Syuriah. Kiai As'ad and his allies and supporters proved to have little or no influence on the outcome of the congress. None of his favoured candidates was given a place on the board. He was himself offered the honorary position of a mustasyar (counsellor) that he had also held during the preceding period-not doing so would have been an extremely rude snub-but modified statutes and by-laws reduced the power of that position. Kiai As'ad was adamant in his disaffection and declared himself seceded from the NU for as long as it would be led by Abdurrahman Wahid.10 Social and Economic Activities The NU's shift from political to community-oriented activities began, as noted above, officially at the Semarang congress, which declared that 'social concerns' (syu'un ijtima'iyah) should henceforth be given more emphasis. There was, however, little unanimity as to what these 'social concerns' were. A small but growing group of young people were interested in pesantren-based community development. The ideas of Paola Freire and Ivan Illich were not unknown in this circle, and in collaboration with the Jakarta-based research institute LP3ES (which in turn had European sponsors) a few pilot projects were set up. Abdurrahman Wahid, Kiai Sahal Mahfudz and Jusuf Hasjim were the three top people involved in these efforts. The majority of the NU, however, stuck to a more limited definition of 'social concerns'. Recommendations on syu'un ijtima'iyah by the 1983 munas concerned the facilitation of the haj, supervision of food and drink to guarantee its being licit, guidance for new converts to Islam, and similar subjects (PBNU 1984:26-7). Another series of recommendations, however, supported a few pilot projects in education, cooperation, legal aid and clean water supply. The Situbondo congress represented a victory for the group interested in community development, and that was reflected in the working program then adopted, which contained long sections on social (charitable) work, economic efforts (selfreliant rural development work) and improvement of labour conditions (PBNU 1985a: pp.146-51). Thanks to generous foreign support, the number of small community development projects carried out in and by pesantren increased. The NU had meanwhile in 1983 established its own non-government

organisation, called P3M, to coordinate these projects.11 After an initial period of high hopes and confidence in the 'emancipatory' potential of the pesantren (reflected in various contributions to Rahardjo 1985 and in Ziemek 1986), there followed one of disappointment and scepticism among many of the younger activists who participated in these projects and felt hindered by the hierarchical relations in the pesantren world. Serious doubts were raised about the chances of success of such projects through the pesantren.12 It is perhaps for that reason that the five year action Program adopted by the Krapyak congress speaks of various forms of community development but does not explicitly mention the pesantren in this connection. NGO activists affiliated with the NU had prepared a draft action programme, that was discussed in one of the committees meeting on the third day. The text gave a sweeping overview of unequal development on a world scale as well as within the country, of the breakdown of traditional structures. of population growth and environmental depletion. It criticised the top-down approach consistently adopted by the government, and remarked that the official cooperatives and other developmental institutions in practice funnelled funds away from the rural to the urban section. It advocated a bottom-up approach instead, with active participation and projects aimed at sustainable growth (PBNU 1989: pp.73-100). Many delegates appeared not to recognise themselves in this radical NGO language, and much of the draft was rejected--in form at least. The program that was finally adopted starts off like a Friday sermon and steers clear of the sensitive remarks of the draft. The substance of the proposal, however, was maintained: the development of small-scale rural industry, small cooperative enterprises and mutual aid associations. Aid will be sought from 'other social classes' and national or international organisations but care will be taken to prevent new dependence or 'economic domination by a certain class' (PBNU 1990: pp.126-62, especially pp.152-5) Implementation of the Program The first step taken by the new board in the socio-economic field was the establishment, a few months after the congress, of a bank--not one of the interest-free, risk- and profit-sharing 'Islamic' variety but an ordinary credit and savings bank. The bank is intended to serve the credit needs of small provincial businessmen, and is expected to draw savings from the numerous NU followers who have so far kept their money under their mattresses instead of in bank deposits. Interest, as is well known,

is a sensitive issue on which the ulama's opinions are divided, but in this case most of the NU ulama silently consented. The board could, in fact, refer to a decision by an earlier NU congress allowing the interest of(state-owned) banks as well as to earlier ventures by the NU into banking.13 The bank is a joint venture for the NU with a sympathetic established Muslim Chinese businessman, who contributed his management experience as well as a substantial share of the starting capital. Its first branch was opened in Sidoarjo (near Surabaya) in March 1990, and Abdurrahman Wahid announced that he was seeking support from Indonesia's big business conglomerates for the establishment of some 2000 branches in the near future. The political climate favoured such an effort. Suharto, concerned about the increasing gap between rich and poor, and with an eye to the 1992 elections, just then publicly told the most prominent Chinese tycoons to do something to narrow that gap and so prevent 'social envy' and violent conflict. He suggested a transfer of shares from the business conglomerates to cooperatives, which he believed to represent the lower income groups (see Tempo 10 March 1990). Abdurrahman Wahid approached the Chinese business world and proposed a joint committee for devising fruitful ways of channelling know-how and funds to small-scale pribumi entrepreneurs. One obvious channel would be the people's credit banks that the NU was setting up. In June the NU signed an agreement with the large Bank Summa (belonging to William Soeryadjaja's Astra group), under which no less than 2000 people's credit banks will be established.14 The NU is, incidentally, not the only Muslim organisation to go into banking. The Muhammadiyah, too, has some time ago announced its plans of setting up its own people's credit banks, which will also be operating with interest. Conclusion The 28th congress of the Nahdlatul Ulama has consolidated the position of Abdurrahman Wahid and Achmad Siddiq and their policy of resolute depoliticisation. In spite of recent changes in PPP favourable to its NU-affiliated members, the formal break with this political party was reaffirmed to be definitive, and there was no support for the proposal to establish another political party. The Idham Chalid group has regained positions in the board but has to accept that policy is henceforth made by Abdurrahman Wahid et. al. Kiai As'ad, allegedly the 'kingmaker', became irrelevant once the branches were given the power to elect the board. With his death, the transfer of authority to a much younger generation, with different ideas and

ambitions, was completed.15 This generation wants the ulama to pay more attention to contemporary social and economic problems instead of minor details of worship. Instead of seeking tenders and other forms of government patronage for privileged members, the present board tries to devise strategies for improving the general welfare of its constituency. The idea that the NU should involve itself more directly in economic development has gained general currency. Opinions as to what and how, understandably, vary widely but most NU members are highly critical of the government's top-down approach which, it is felt, rarely, if ever, benefits the lower strata. Radical third world ideologies are known but the NU, wary of confrontation, prefers to adopt an approach that is complementary to the government's rather than an alternative to it. Its choice of cooperation with big Chinese capital for its first major economic project should perhaps also be interpreted as a public declaration that it does not believe in class struggle but class harmony.16 The congress also represented an occasion for Suharto to decrease the distance between himself and the rank and file of the NU. Although popularity among the general population will be at best of marginal importance in the power struggle at the top, Suharto has made great efforts recently to improve his image among the Muslims. His most open opponent, Moerdani (who as a Catholic is not a candidate for the presidency himself but is a potential kingmaker), failed to prevent Suharto from making further inroads among the Muslim constituency. He proved to have lost the grip on the NU that he had before he fell out with Suharto. The most popular man at the top, not surprisingly, appeared to be Try Sutrisno, but it remains to be seen whether he is smart enough to capitalise upon his popularity. The other contenders for power also cultivate their relations with the NU or with factions within it. For the time being, many middle-ranking cadres of the NU seem to agree that of the serious candidates for the presidency, Suharto is still better than the alternatives, and more favourable to Muslim interests. The board is more careful and keeps all its options open. Abdurrahman Wahid refused, for instance to take part in a joint declaration of Muslim leaders in favour of a new Suharto term. He gave constitutional considerations as his reason, but another consideration, equally important, is that the NU does not want to antagonise any potential winner. The NU will, true to the Sunni tradition of political legitimation, recognise and cooperate with any de facto government, and strive to further its particularistic interests within the framework of the status quo.

References Bruinessen, Martin van 1990, 'Indonesia's Ulama and Politics: Caught Between Legitimising the Status Quo and Searching for Alternatives', Prisma-The Indonesian Indicator, no.49, pp.52-69. Hamzah, KH. Imron and Anam, Drs Choirul 1989, Sebuah dialog mencari kejelasan: Gus Dur diadili kiai-kiai, Jawa Pos, Surabaya. Jones, Sidney 1984, 'The Contraction and Expansion of the "Umat" and the Role of the Nahdlatul Ulama in Indonesia', Indonesia, no.38, pp.1-20. Kuntowiioyo 1988, 'Menuju kemandirian: pesantren dan pembangunan desa', Prisma, vol. XVII, no.1, pp.102-15. Mudatsir, Arief 1984, 'Dari Situbondo menuju NU baru: sebuah catatan awal',Prisma, vol. XVII, nomor ekstra, pp.130-42 (English translation in Prisma - The Indonesian Indicator, no.35, 1985, pp.161-77). Nakamura, Mitsuo 1981, 'The Radical Tranditionalism of the Nahdlatul Ulama in Indonesia: A Personal Account of the 26th National Congress, June 1979, Semarang', Southeast Asia Studies (Japan) vo1.19, no.2, pp.187-204. Pengurus Besar Nahdlatul Ulama [PBNU] n.d., Ahkam alfuqaha. Kumpulan masalah-2 diniyah dalam Mu'tamar NU ke I sid 15 (2 vols in one), Toha Putra, Semarang. ---- 1984, Laporan penyelenggaraan musyawarah nasional Alim Ulama Nahdlatul Ulama pada tanggal 18-21 Desember 1983 di Pesantren Salafiyah Syafi'iyah Sukorejo., Situbondo, PBNU, Jakarta. --- 1985a, Hasil Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama ke 27 Situbondo. Nahdlatul Ulama kembali ke Khittah 1926, Sumber Barokah, Semarang. --- 1985b, Anggaran dasar dan anggaran rumah tangga Nahdlatul Ulama, Lajnah Ta'lif wan Nasyr, PBNU, Jakarta. --- 1985c, Khitthah Nahdlatul Ulama, Lajnah Ta'lif wan Nasyr, PBNU, Jakarta. --- 1988, Keputusan Munas Alim Ulama Nahdlatul Ulama dan Konbes NU di Cilacap, Sumber Barokah, Semarang. --- 1989a, Pedoman umum Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama ke28 di Pondok Pesantren Al Munawwir Krapyak Yogyakarta, Tim Teknis Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama ke-28, Jakarta.

--- 1989b, 'Laporan pertanggungjawaban pengurus besar Nahdlatul Ulama periode 1984-1989', Tim Teknis Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama ke-28, Jakarta. --- 1989c, Bahan-bahan pembahasan Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama ke-28 di Pondok Pesantren Al Munawwir Krapyak Yogyakarta, Tim Teknis Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama ke-28, Jakarta. --- 1990, Hasil-hasil Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama ke-28 di Pondok Pesantren Al-Munawwir, Krapyak, Yogyakarta, 2528 Nopember 1989, PBNU, Jakarta. Rahardjo, M. Dawam (ed) 1985, Pergulatan dunia pesantren. membangun dari bawah, P3M, Jakarta. Ziemek, Manfred 1986, Pesantren dalam perabahan sosial, P3M, Jakarta. *************** 9 Division of the other votes: West Java and Jakarta together commanded 44 votes, Sumatra 74, Kalimantan 34, Sulawesi 39, Ball 6 (!) and the remaining parts of East Indonesia 21. It is obvious that the average branch in outer Indonesia is much smaller than that in Java. 10 In March 1990 he was persuaded to return to the bosom of the NU and accept his position as mustasyar, but he remained opposed to Wahid's leadership. He died on 4 August 1990. 11 P3M stands for Perhimpunan Perkembangan dan Masyarakat, 'Association for the Development of Pesantren and Society'. its official director is Jusuf Hasjim, but day-to-day hands of a managing director.

affairs are in the

12 See the sharp criticism in Kuntowijoyo 1988. This author, a widely respected Muslim historian, is not affiliated with the NU, and many were unhappy with his criticism. Several of the young men who have actively taken part in these projects are, however, even more critical and cynical about the kiai's ulterior motives for taking on such projects. They feel that democratisation through the pesantren is a contradiction in terms. 13 See the weeklies Tempo and Editor, 10 March 1990. Deputy rais am Ali Yafie referred to a fatwa of the NU congress in Banten (more precisely: in Menes in 1938) that legitimised banking. I have not found the text of this fatwa; the opinions of the ulama were apparently indecisive and no decision was published. The previous year, however, the 12th congress still had advised against depositing money in bank accounts (PBNU n.d: 70-1). In the 1950s, NU leaders established the Bank Nusantara

in Jakarta and the Bank Haji in management.

Semarang. Both banks failed because of poor

14 The decision to cooperate on this scale with large Chinese capital ran predictably into some opposition, also in the Syuriah. Criticism remained subdued, however, because the programme serves a need strongly felt among the NU rank and file. The terms of the contract seem quite favourable to the NU: it begins with a controlling share, while Bank Summa's share in due time will be phased out. See the special report in Tempo, 9 June 1990. The last great kiai of the founding generation and immediately after have now died: Bisri Syansuri (in 1980), Machrus Ali (in 1985), Ali Ma'shum (a few days after the congress) and As'ad Syamsul Arifin (in August 1990). Of this generation, only Masjkur (born in 1897 or 1898), who was not a founding member but once was the chairman and had many other official functions, still survives at the time of writing [editors' note: Masykur died in 1993]. 16 The cooperation is of course facilitated by the Chinese entrepreneur's awareness of the very real possibility of new anti- Chinese riots, which makes some of them eager to be seen doing something nice for Muslims. Chapter Seven Traditions for the Future: The Reconstruction of Traditionalist Discourse Within NU Martin van Bruinessen

When the Muslim modernists of the early 20th century were thinking about developing an Islamic practice appropriate to the modern age, they raised the slogan of return to the original scriptural sources, Qur'an and Hadis, throwing off the intellectual ballast accumulated during the intervening thirteen centuries. They attributed the stagnation of the Muslim world to the heavy weight of established practice, the blind following (taqlid) of earlier generations of Muslim thinkers, and they were convinced that the exercise of ijtihad, independent interpretation of the Qur'an and hadis (though within definite limits) would make Islam much more adaptable to new circumstances. When in the early 1980s the Nahdlatul Ulama made a radical break with its recent past as a political party, this too was explained as a return to an earlier past, to the spirit of the founding fathers, to the strategy (khittah) of the year 1926, when the organisation was established. It was hardly a coincidence that simultaneously with this alleged return to tradition, leadership of the organisation passed from the tired old

men who had unimaginatively been at the helm into the hands of two younger men who were, each in his own way, very much concerned about the future of Islam and of the people whom they were going to lead. The very concept of the khittah of 1926 was, in fact, first formulated by one of them, Kiai Achmad Siddiq, as recently as 1979.1 Both 'modernist' and 'traditionalist' Muslims, when planning to take a step forward, thus appealed to an older tradition--although what was understood thereby in these two cases was quite different. There is a growing awareness among historians and anthropologists that the relationship between tradition and change, or tradition and modernity, is not as straightforward as earlier generations used to think. Not only is the body of tradition in any society continually evolving, it is also often subject to deliberate innovations.2 We have for some time now been aware that many allegedly ancient traditions are in fact quite recent inventions.3 This may be true of religious traditions as well as of court ceremonies or the rituals surrounding sports events. Bearing this in mind, there is no a priori reason to presume that a self-consciously traditionalist organisation (such as the Nahdlatul Ulama) is less dynamic or less prone to change than a self-proclaimed anti-traditional one. NU and Islamic Tradition Any attempt to define what the Nahdlatul Ulama is, what it represents and what it stands for, involves the concept of tradition; tradition is the essence of its self-perception and selfdefinition. There is no single Indonesian (or Javanese) term covering the entire semantic range of this self-conscious traditionalism. Instead, the foreign loanwords 'tradisi' and 'tradisional' are often used. Thus one may speak of Islam tradisional; a recent study of the pesantren (Islamic school) world by a person of NU background was entitled Tradisi Pesantren,4 and a textbook for use in NU-affiliated schools discusses a few points of difference with modernists under the heading of Tradisi keagamaan kaum Nahdliyyin,'The religious traditions of NU's followers'.5 The absence of an indigenous term suggests that the present awareness of the tradition as such is relatively recent. What does the NU's traditionalism consist of! There are several key concepts in Islam that are frequently translated as 'tradition', the most important of them being hadis, sunnah and adat. None of these terms is co-extensive with Muslim traditionalism, and with the last it has had a highly ambivalent relationship. Adat (Ar. `adah) is local practice, the way of the

ancestors; since for the first generations of Indonesian Muslims the ancestors obviously were not Muslims, Islam and adat have at some times and places been at odds. As time went by, however, inevitably more and more of the ancestors were Muslims, and adat was gradually adapted to Islam (or even came to incorporate elements from Muslim law). Conversely, much of adat came to be seen as part and parcel of Islam. In the view of Muslim reformists, the religious practice of the traditionalists is pervaded with local practices of non-Islamic origin; it is a mixture of Islam and adat. The traditionalists themselves strongly object to this view; they emphasise that traditionalist ulama have played leading roles in the struggle against adat practices that are in conflict with the syari'ah. The sunnah of the Prophet, i.e. the precedents set by him for believers to follow, constitutes a core element in the selfconscious traditionalism of the NU ulama. Traditionalist Indonesian Muslims refer to themselves as ahlus sunnah wal jama'ah (abbreviated to Aswaja), 'people of the sunnah and the (orthodox) community'. This term explicitly excludes rationalists (who depend on reason rather than the sunnah) and all sorts of sectarians, notably the Shi'is (who have de facto broken with the Sunni community). But the traditionalists most commonly use the term to distinguish themselves from modernist and reformist Muslims, whom they also see as deviating from the sunnah. The latter, however, firmly claim that they themselves are the true ahlus sunnah wal jama'ah and point out that for many traditionalist beliefs and practices no Prophetic precedent can be found. Reformists and traditionalists have different perceptions of the sunnah, rooted in different attitudes towards the hadis. Hadis (literally meaning 'reports' but commonly translated as 'traditions') are sayings attributed to the Prophet or, occasionally, eyewitness reports concerning his acts. They constitute the major source of knowledge of the sunnah of the Prophet and thereby embody the most authoritative doctrinal and behavioural norms. The hadis have in fact had a much greater impact on the life of the Muslim community than the Qur'an has; there is no belief or practice that is not ultimately legitimated by some hadis. In the light of what was observed above on tradition in general, it should come as no surprise that numerous hadis can be shown to be later fabrications, apparently invented in order to legitimate existing local practices, to support one faction as against others, or to address problems arising long after the Prophet's lifetime.6 When the modernists and reformists raised the slogan of return to the Qur'an and hadis, they meant by the latter the

canonical collections of 'sound' (shahih) traditions, from which the most obvious falsifications had been weeded out. Traditionalists also acknowledged the central importance of hadis, but before the early 20th century, the canonical collections of Bukhari and Muslim were not studied in the pesantren. Many santri, it is true, got to know one or more of the shorter 'Forty Hadis' collections that were popular throughout the Muslim world, or even one of the larger collections of devotional and moralistic hadis.7 Mostly, however, they encountered hadis in the 'processed' form, as they are quoted in support of an argument in the texts on fiqh ('junsprudence') and doctrine that made up most of the pesantren curriculum.8 For in matters of law and doctrine, traditionalist Muslims--and here we come to the core of the tradition--follow the great ulama of the past rather than deriving their own conclusions from the Qur'an and hadis. In other words, they adhere to one of the orthodox mazhab or schools of law and practise taqlid, i.e. follow the rulings of the founding father and other major scholars of this school as they are found in standar fiqh works. Fiqh, Mazhab and Taqlid Taqlid and mazhab are perhaps the most central concepts of the learned variety of traditionalist Islam. A few ulama of exemplary learning and piety in the early Islamic period laid down the principles of jurisprudence and legal practice in more or less fixed mazhab (lit. 'path'). In so doing, they practised ijtihad or independent interpretation of the scriptural sources. Later generations modestly refrained from ijtihad and practised taqlid instead. In the traditionalist view, it is perilous to depend on one's own reading of the Qur'an and hadis, as it may lead to sinful error. The average believer, and even learned scholars, can only avoid going astray by strict adherence to one of the mazhab, i.e., by relying on its standard works of fiqh. Out of a larger number existing in the past, only four Sunni schools of law survive, the Hanafi, Syafi'i, Maliki and Hanbali mazhab (sometimes the Shiite Ja`fari mazhab is counted as the fifth). Indonesian Muslims almost without exception used to adhere to the Syafi'i mazhab, which was also the dominant one in South Arabia and southern India. Fiqh is, for the traditionalists, the queen of the sciences; it is the guide for all behaviour, prescribing what the believer should and should not do. In the other religious sciences of doctrine ('aqidah) and mysticism (tasawwuf), they also practice taqlid, following in matters of belief Asy'ari and his school (with lip-

service to the rival school of Maturidi) and in mysticism the moderate Ghazali, while rejecting Ibn 'Arabi's mysticism and metaphysics. Reformists reject Asy'ari and Ghazali (as well as, of course, Ibn 'Arabi) and elevate the puritan Ibn Taimiyyah to the status of the greatest scholar of the past. Ibn Taimiyya's works, in turn, are anathema in the pesantren world. The traditionalist insistence on taqlid appears to be rooted in a pessimistic view of history, according to which knowledge and piety necessarily decrease with increasing distance from the Prophetic intervention. Today's ulama are believed to be but pale shadows of the great scholars of the past, and presuming to improve upon their rulings by practising one's own ijtihad is seen as unwarranted arrogance. Reformists and modernists, on the other hand. vehementlv criticised 'blind ra4lid' and the accompanying medieval mentality as responsible for the backwardness of Indonesia's Muslim community. Their call for a return to the Qur'an and hadis often amounted to a radical rejection of most of the religious literature of the intervening period, and especially of fiqh and its mazhab.9 Both traditionalists and reformists, incidentally, have tended to exaggerate the rigidity of the mazhab. It is true that fiqh books prescribe in great detail what has to be done in numerous specific situations, but a fair amount of flexibility and freedom has always existed because fiqh is neither a complete nor a consistent system. It is not complete, for many concrete problems are not covered by it, so that the expert has to choose which known problem he considers most relevant to the case at hand. And the casuistry of the fuqaha (experts in fiqh) is proverbial; a skilled legist can find arguments in support of almost any opinion. This is further facilitated by the fact that on many questions that are explicitly treated in the fiqh works there appear to exist not one but several answers, derived by different leading lights of the mazhab or sometimes by the same expert in different periods of his life. Due to the willingness to accommodate different opinions and inconsistencies, the mazhab have retained a certain potential for development and adaptability. Taqlid is not necessarily rigid. Ironically, in the late 20th century, traditionalist ulama often appear more flexible than the spokesmen for reformist Islam, many of whom have not evolved beyond the positions taken at the beginning of this century. Respect and Rituals for the Dead The concept of taqlid is closely associated with the great respect in which the ulama, and especially those of the past, are

held by traditionalist Muslims. The ulama deserve respect as the carriers of (religious) knowledge; they are, as a celebrated hadis has it, the 'inheritors of the prophets'. The transmission of religious knowledge, even if this concerns only a written text, involves a personal relationship between teacher and disciple, and the latter is acutely aware of being at the end of a long chain of such teacher-disciple links (the chain is called isnad in the case of hadis and other textual knowledge, silsilah in the case of mystical initiations). It is the disciple's duty to continue paying respect to his teachers and teachers' teachers, even after their deaths. He may also request a deceased teacher's, or another saint's, intercession, blessing or supernatural support. Pilgrimages to the shrines of the saints who introduced Islam to the archipelago and to those of great ulama--especially the kiai who allegedly possessed supernatural powers--are an important part of traditionalist religious life. Most pesantren organise annual celebrations, called khaul (Ar. hawl), to commemorate the deaths of their founders. The khaul is a special case of ziarah kubur, the visiting of graves that is considered as meritorious in traditionalist circles (and much frowned upon by reformists). It is part of a whole complex of practices relating to the dead, based on the assumption that some form of contact still exists. On the first seven nights after a death, relatives and friends come together for a ritual meal preceded by prayers and tahlilan (recitation of the creed la ilaha illa'llah). The participants present the merit (pahala, sawab) of prayers and recitation as a gift to the soul of the deceased. In the same way, one says prayers and Qur'anic verses when visiting a grave, as a present to the person buried there. In exchange, especially when visiting graves of saints, one may ask for intercession with God, the cure for a disease, business success or other forms of supernatural assistance, or seek a divinatory dream or vision. In the view of the sufis, even after their death teachers remain indispensible as intermediaries in the chain of spiritual guidance from the Prophet to the individual believer. These practices are severely condemned by reformists, in whose opinion communication ends with death and all attempts at contacts beyond the grave are no less than syirk, idolatry. Much more than technical questions of taqlid versus ijtihad, it is these practices that maintain a sharp boundary between reformists and modernists on the one hand, and traditionalists on the other. On the former matter, both sides have evolved in converging directions (more emphasis on canonical hadis in the pesantren and more respect for the intellectual tradition of fiqh among reformists). On the point of relations with the dead,

however, the difference is as wide now as it was seventy years ago. This is, therefore, certainly at present, the most sharply distinguishing feature of Muslim traditionalism in Indonesia. It is recognised as such by several NU-affiliated authors, and the defence of the said practices receives much attention in their apologetic works.10 However, in the more self-conscious recent statements on Muslim traditionalism, the various reformulations of NU's khittah, these practices are hardly mentioned and certainly not given any emphasis. Demise of the Traditionalist-Reformist Conflict There is no disagreement as to the centrality of the abovementioned traditions to the identity of NU. Taqlid with the Imam Syafi'i in questions of religious obligations, with Imam Asy'ari in matters of doctrine, and with Ghazali in mysticism and piety, extraordinary veneration for the ulama of the past, presenting prayers and other gifts to the dead and asking for their intercession were the elements of traditional religiosity most fiercely attacked by reformist and modernist Muslims in the first decades of this century. Traditionalism, which declared those aspects of religious practice that were the most criticised to be the most essential, was the understandable defensive reaction to the reformist onslaught. In the 1920s and 1930s the debates between reformists and traditionalists were heated, but the emotions have long since subsided. In matters concerning the relations with the dead, the reformist and traditionalist viewpoints are as irreconcilable as ever, although this now rarely leads to open conflicts between neighbours anymore. In the taqlid versus ijtihad debate, however, there has been among the traditionalists a gradual shift towards accommodation with reformist positions. An early attempt at reconciliation was made by Kiai Machfoezh Shiddiq, who was the NU chairman-general from 1937 to 1942. In an influential booklet he argued that there was no real contradiction between taqlid and ijtihad. 'Strict' ijtihad was only practised by the great imams of the past, but within the mazhab there remain numerous problems that cannot be solved by literal following of those imams, and that necessitates interpretation and creative thought of a lower order. Taqlid should never consist of the blind unthinking following that is so criticised by reformists, but in Machfoezh Shiddiq's view necessarily involves a certain amount of what the reformists term ijtihad. Reformists, on the other hand, agree that ijtihad may only be practised within very strict limitations.11 Kiai Machfoezh' younger brother Achmad Siddiq was later to develop

this argument a little further in his Khitthah Nahdliyah, and as NU's rais am was to preside over the formal reconciliation of Muhammadiyah and NU. It needs hardly be said that the heated reformist-traditionalist debates of a half century ago were not part of the idealised past that the 'return to the khittah of 1926' should recreate. Those thinkers in NU who attempted a formulation of the khittah were also for various reasons in favour of further accommodation with the reformists and wished for an emulation of their successes in education, welfare and social mobility. They therefore tended to under emphasise in their formulations the dimensions of traditionalism that were previously used to define the boundaries with reformism.12 There were no anti-reformist overtones in any stage of the discussions on the 'return to the khittah of 1926.' The Desire for Change and Definitions of the Khittah When the 1984 NU Congress at Situbondo decided to 'return to the khittah of 1926' there was little agreement as to what precisely was meant by those words. Different persons held and continue to hold different, sometimes even conflicting, views on this return to a better past, depending on what they perceived to be the major ills of the present. The sources of discontent had been numerous recently: the increasing political marginalisation of NU, its failure to contribute to the well-being of its constituency, and the declining role of the kiai in the organisation. To some delegates at the congress, returning to NU's original platform implied a clean break with parliamentary politics; to others it meant that the ulama should take full control of the organisation again (after it had been hijacked by the politicians); to yet others it signified that NU should also represent the social and economic interests of its constituency. Since NU had been forced to merge with other Muslim parties into the PPP (United Development Party), its effectiveness as a channel of political and economic patronage had steadily declined. NU politicians faced heavy-handed government intervention in PPP to reduce their influence. NU-affiliated businessmen faced economic boycotts: not only were they not awarded government contracts, but even their dealings with private sector partners were often blocked by local authorities. These were reprisals for the oppositional role NU played in Indonesia's parliament during the 1970s. Many, if not most, of NU's local branch committees were dominated by businessmen who desired to get rid of the odium of political opposition. Many kiai felt that they had lost their grip on the

organisation; by name it still was an organisation of ulama but in practice it was run by urban politicians who had little time for the rural kiai. The kiai were, of course, not just losing control of the organisation, their influence in society at large was declining even faster. They were no longer the highest educated persons of their villages, and the value of a pesantren education had fallen far below that of a western-type school diploma. The largely rural mass following of NU belonged to the most backward segments of Indonesian society, and Indonesia's pattern of economic development tended to exacerbate their relative backwardness. Some young members of the NU elite felt that the emphasis on political struggle during the past decades had led to neglect of NU's educational role and of its responsibility for the welfare of its following. They too looked back to a less politicised past to legitimise the community development-type activities they envisaged. The Founding Fathers, the Khittah and the Future Apart from discontent in various circles, there is another reason why around 1980 there was an increasing demand for an explicit formulation of NU's principles. This was the inevitable process of ageing and death of the charismatic leaders of the first era. The great ulama of the founding generation enjoyed tremendous respect in NU circles, and as long as they were alive it was they who embodied NU's values and aims. Until 1980, the highest position in the organisation had in turn been held by the three most respected founders, Hasjim Asj'ari (d. 1947), Wahab Chasbullah (d. 1971) and Bisri Syansuri (d. 1980). Each of them put a highly personal stamp on the organisation, resulting in quite different emphases in NU's traditionalism. It was not only due to changed external circumstances that NU's behaviour in their respective periods shows great differences. NU's unyielding support for Sukarno's policies was very much due to Kiai Wahab and his pragmatic attitude. The 'radical traditionalism' of the 1980s, which several times brought NU into open conflict with the New Order government,13 was just as much due to Kiai Bisri's personality and his different views as to when one should be principled. The difference between the attitudes of Kiai Wahab and Kiai Bisri is often explained by their preferences of, respectively, qawa'id al-fiqh and ushul al-fiqh as methods of deciding which course of action is dictated by Islamic law in a given situation. To many concrete questions, as mentioned above, the fiqh literature does not provide unambiguous answers. The qawa'id (singular, qa'idah, 'rule') are simple legal maxims, rules of

thumb for quickly cutting through a problem. One of the most celebrated of these maxims may be paraphrased as 'the prevention of developments that could be detrimental or sinful has a higher priority than the pursuit of that which is beneficial or morally superior.14 Reliance on this maxim, to the unsympathetic observer, will be hard to distinguish from ordinary opportunism. Ushul al-fiqh, on the other hand, is a sophisticated methodology of fiqh, detailing how to arrive at a judgement from first principles (Qur'an, hadis, consensus of the great ulama of the past), allowing a restricted form of reasoning by analogy (qiyas). It is a strict and severe intellectual discipline, that does not condition its practitioners for compromise. Kiai Bisri clearly was the better scholar; Kiai Wahab had the stronger political instinct. His use of qawa'id al-fiqh gave religious legitimation to what his instincts told him was in the best interests of NU. After Bisri Syansuri's death, none of the founding fathers remained, and there was nobody left who could be said to embody NU's principles (Kiai As'ad Syamsul Arifin tried to act that part but was not really successful). This made it more urgent for the principles to be laid down explicitly; it was necessary to define the traditions that until recently had been present in the form of the founding fathers. In a way, one could say that Kiai Bisri's real successor was the khittah.15 The idea that a new formulation of NU's aims and principles should take the place of the living presence of the Ulama of the founding generation was expressed quite explicitly by Kiai Achmad Siddiq in the booklet in which he attempted this formulation.16 Kiai Wahab and Kiai Bisri were still alive then but according to the author the time had come for an authoritative statement. Not only was he worried about the widening gap between the founding fathers and the younger generation of NU members, but he also perceived that the latter had become very heterogeneous in educational and cultural backgrounds. One gathers that this observation referred to the fact that NU's becoming a political party had made the organisation dependent on leaders with different skills, and perhaps different basic values as well, than those transmitted in the pesantren. During the 1955 elections NU did not itself have sufficient educated members to fill all the parliamentary seats it had won, and it had to recruit outsiders. This pattern continued into the 1970s, and even many politicians of solid NU family backgrounds lacked the exposure to pesantren education that could have made the kiai's norms and values second nature to them.

Kiai Achmad Siddiq's Restatement of the Khittah Kiai Achmad Siddiq emphasised that NU had been established as a purely religious organisation (jam'iyyah diniyyah) and that its participation in practical politics had been only an intermezzo that had in fact ended in 1973, when the political role was taken over by the PPP.17 This was not how most people then saw the situation: the general view was that NU was continuing its political life as one clearly identifiable 'stream' within PPP. Even Kiai Bisri Syansuri, the rais am, remained active in politics almost up to his death. There were, in the late 1970s, already voices in NU calling for a withdrawal from practical politics and Kiai Achmad Siddiq probably agreed with them, but rather than joining in the call for a change he chose to redefine the situation and state that the change had already occurred. Only the actors had pet to be made aware of it. Many individual NU members were and would remain politically active but, as Kiai Achmad implied, not in the name of their organisation. Kiai Achmad Siddiq was a past master in such semantic games, and he was repeatedly to have recourse to similar stratagems in the following years. The radicalism and confrontation with the government of the 1970s were, as Kiai Achmad implied (without explicitly referring to them, however), not part of the NU tradition. The most essential characteristics of Islam, he wrote, are the principle of tawassuth (moderation, keeping to the middle road) and the aim of rahmatan lil alamin (compassion and kindness towards the entire world). Both imply tolerance and accommodation towards all but the implacable enemies of Islam. Tawassuth and the cognate concepts of i'tidal and tawazun (equity and balance) should be applied in all spheres of life. In religious matters, Kiai Achmad continued, tawassuth means the avoidance of fanaticism, a balanced use of reason as well as tradition based in revelation. It further required efforts to purify Islam of foreign accretions but tolerance towards Muslims whose religion still contains such foreign elements. This formulation appears to imply accommodation with reformist Islam and benevolent neighbourly relations with abangan (nominal) Muslims. Like his brother Machfoezh Shiddiq before him (cf. note 11) Kiai Achmad appeared willing to meet the reformists halfway.18 No such religious accommodation was possible with abangan Muslims-Kiai Achmad resolutely rejected all forms of syncretism-but the emphasis on tolerance appears designed to cool down the confrontation between rural santri and abangan, that had divided Java's countryside since the 1950s. One may perhaps also perceive here a criticism of NU's angry response to

the recognition of aliran kebatinan (Javanese mystical sects) by the MPR session of 1978, which had caused the NU deputies to stage a walk-out. In social and political life, tawassuth, i'tidal and tawazun imply acceptance of the variety of mankind, and mutual understanding and respect for others. The political consequences Kiai Achmad derives from his concepts of moderation deserve quoting in full: (1 The preservation of the national state (which was established by the common wish of the entire people) and the defence of its existence are obligatory. (2 The legitimate head of state (government) must be held in respect and must be obeyed as long as it does not deviate from, or issues orders in contravention of, God's commands. (3 If it so happens that the government is at fault, the way to admonish it is in a polite manner.19 This carefully worded statement allows various readings, probably deliberately so. It affirms acceptance of the status quo and accommodation with the government but has a built-in reservation. The government, it is implied, may well do wrong and will then have to be admonished--albeit politely. Interestingly, the state is said to be legitimate because it is a national state and an embodiment of popular sovereignty. This is an implicit rejection of Islamic religio-politics. From this position it was not a great step to argue in favour of acceptance of Pancasila as the one-and-only ideological foundation of NU, as Kiai Achmad did in 1983. Also his affirmation at the 1984 Congress that the Pancasila-based Republic represented the final form of the Indonesian state--i.e., his rejection of the idea of an Islamic state--is already implicit in this earlier formulation.20 As important elements of the khittah, Kiai Achmad further mentions ma'arif(education), mabarrat (charity), mu'amalah (economic activities) and izzul Islam wal Muslimin (glory of Islam and Muslims). All of these are well-known terms, but they are given a somewhat modern slant. Speaking of education, the kiai always mentions madrasah and school together, thereby implicitly attributing equal weight to non-religious and religious subjects. Charity is declared to be a 'social' act of worship (ibadah ijtima'iyyah) and thereby put on a level with other forms of worship such as prayer and fasting. Establishing hospitals and orphanages (this was once an activity in which Muhammadiyah distinguished itself from NU) is an important this-worldly form of social worship, but other-worldly forms of

charity such as prayers for the dead should trot be forgotten either. In economic matters, to provide for one's own and one's family's basic needs is declared a fardlu 'ain, a religious duty incumbent upon each individual. It is, moreover, highly desirable to achieve more than a minimal standard of living, so that one can also fulfill the obligation of expending zakat and shadaqah.21 It is perhaps significant that Kiai Achmad does not ************* 1 Kiai Achmad Siddiq published a booklet titled Khitthah Nahdliyah ust before the 1979 NU congress. The ideas had been germinating for more than a decade, however, before receiving their final shape. An earlier version appeared in 1969 as Pedoman Berfikir Nahdlatul Ulama'. I an grateful to Greg Fealy for providing me with a copy of this document. 2 Dutch adat law scholars believed that they were uncovering ancient and unchanging traditions. It is satisfying to observe that one of the chief works of this school, C. van Vollenhove's The Discovery of Adat Law, in Indonesian translation has been given (though not deliberately, I fear) the fittingly ambivalent title of Penemuan Hukum Adat--the first word of which may mean 'invention' as well as 'discovery'. 3 Eric Hobsbawm and Terence Ranger, The Invention of Tradition (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983). 4 Zamakhsyari Dhofier, Tradisi Pesantren: Studi tentang Pandangan Hidup Kyai (Jakarta: LP3ES, 1982). This is a translation of the author's 1980 ANU dissertation, The Pesantren Tradition. 5 Ally As'ad, Ke-NU-an, Buku pertama(Yogyakarta: Pengurus Wilayah Ma'arif NU Daerah Istimewa Yogyakarta, 1981), pp. 31-3. The traditions described and defended here include ziarah kubur (visiting the graves of ancestors and teachers), tahlilan (reciting the formula la ilaha illa 'llah, 'there is no god but God'), and shalawatan (invocations of divine blessing on behalf of the Prophet and his family). 6 European scholars such as Ignaz Goldziher, Joseph Schacht and G.H.A. Juynboll have emphasised that the hadis literature is to a large extent a product of later centuries. Muslim scholars reject their conclusions but agree that there are hadis of various degrees of reliability, the canonical collections of Bukhari and Muslim being considered as the most reliable. Reformists insist on stricter criteria of reliability of hadis than traditionalists, and have in fact declared numerous popular hadis to be false or unreliable. 7 Of the 'Forty Hadis' collections, those by Nawawi and 'Ushfuri are among traditionalist Muslims in Indonesia. Nawawi's

the most popular

Forty exist in numerous editions and translations, and they are for instance appended to the Indonesian translation of Hasjim Asj'ari's Muqaddmah al-Qanun al-Asasi, the most authoritative early statement of what NU stood for (the translation was published by Menara, Kudus, 1969).'Ushfuri's Forty (known as Ushfuriyah) were recently translated into Indonesian by the santri-journalist Mustafa Helmi with the explicit intention of acquainting an urban public with the pesantren atmosphere. A more voluminous collection used in many pesantren is Riyadl alShalihin, also by Nawawi. Many of the hadis in these collections do not stand up to the reformists' stricter criteria of authenticity, and the same is true of numerous hadis quoted in the fiqh textbooks referred to below. 8 See Martin van Bruinessen, 'Kitab Kuning: Books in Arabic Script Used in the Pesantren Milieu', Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde 146 (1990), 226-269; idem, 'Pesantren and Kitab Kuning: Maintenance and Continuation of a Tradition of Religious Learning', Mizan (Jakarta) vol. V no. 2 (1992), 27-48. 9 The origin of the mazhab, the potential for development within the mazhab, and the challenge posed to the mazhab by reformist thought are presented very clearly in Noel J. Coulson, 'The concept of progress and Islamic law', in: Robert F. Bellah (ed.), Religion and Progress in Modern Asia (New York: The Free Press, 1965), pp. 74-92. 10 A booklet by KH Ali Ma'shum, NU's rais am (president-general) from 1982 to 1984, discusses nine issues on which reformists vehemently disagree with traditionalists (KH Ali Ma'shum, Kebenaran Argumentasi Ahlussunnah wal Jama'ah. Translated from the Arabic by KH Ahmad Subki Masyhadiy. Pekalongan: Udin Putra, 1983). Three of these concern matters of worship (non-obligatory prayers and the determination of beginnning and end of the fasting month), one the experiences of the soul after death, and the other five concern various aspects of relations with the dead. See also note 5. 11 Ch. M. Machfoezh Shiddiq, Debar tentang Idjtihaad dan Taqlied. Soerabaia: H.B.N.O., n.d. My attention was first drawn to this publication by Professor A. Mukti Ali (who remembered it as a watershed in traditionalist-reformist relations). I thank Kiai Muchith Muzadi of Jember for finding this rare booklet and sending me a photocopy. 12 This should not be thought to imply that the said aspects of traditionalism were less meaningful for these thinkers personally. Kiai Achmad Siddiq was also an associate of the unconventional and highly charismatic peripatetic clairvoyant, miracle-working mystic and living saint, 'Gus Mik' (KH Chamim Djazuli). Siddiq was later buried in a graveyard designed by the latter to become a centre of

spiritual power by having 40 huffazh (persons knowing the Qur'an by heart) and 40 'inheritors of the saints' buried there. It would have been hard to find anyone in NU more directly embodying the polar opposite of Islamic reformism than Gus Mik. 13 The expression 'radical traditionalism' was first used by Mitsuo Nakamura to describe NU's political attitude during the 1970s. See volume [chapter three].

his article in this

14 In Arabic: daf' al-mafasid muqaddam 'ala jalb al-mashalih. This maxim was often referred to by NU politicians to explain that they cooperated with Sukarno in order to prevent a worse outcome, i.e. an even stronger influence of the communists on government policies. 15 One is reminded, of course, of Weber's well-known discussion of the transition from charismatic to legal-bureaucratic authority, of which this process of explicit self-definition is clearly a part. The reader will have no difficulty discerning Weber's third type, traditional authority, as a crucial factor in the selection of Achmad Siddiq and Abdurrahman Wahid to become the first new team to lead the organisation after the adoption of the khittah. 16 KH Achmad Siddiq, Khitthah Nahdliyah (second edition, Surabaya: Balai Buku, 1980), pp. 14-15. 17 Achmad Siddiq, Khitthah Nahdliyyah, p. 15-16. 18 As NU's rais am he was later to make overtures towards Muhammadiyah and, together with the latter organisation's chairman, A.R. Fahruddin, thereby signalling that the differences of the past had largely been ironed out in the interest of ukhuwah islamiyah, brotherly relations among Muslims. 19 Achmad Siddiq, Khitthah Nahdliyah, p. 51. 20 '... Republik Indonesia adalah bentuk upaya final seluruh nasion teristimewa kaum Muslimin untuk mendirikan negara di wilayah Nusantara.' See: Hasil Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama ke 27 Situbondo (Semarang: Sumber Barokah, 1985), p. 89. 21 Zakat is the obligatory 'alms-tax,' consisting of a fixed, precisely stipulated percentage of certain sources of income, to be divided equally among specified categories of recipients (including the poor); shadaqah are voluntary gifts to those recipients. mention performance of the haj in this context; the haj only results in the individual acquisition of merit, while giving zakat and shadaqah is also an act of social solidarity. Among the possible interpretations of izzul Islam wal Muslimin, finally, Kiai Achmad mentions the need for Muslims

to overcome their under-representation in politics and economics, nationally as well as internationally. He was, more than other ulama, acutely aware of how backward the Muslim umat (community) in general was compared to the West and Japan, how underdeveloped the Indonesian Muslims were compared to the Christian minority and the secular elite, and how far NU's following lagged behind the modernist Muslims. This awareness gave the old term of izzul Islam wal Muslimin as he used it a new overtone of emancipation. This reformulation of NU's khittah caused a few raised eyebrows even among the kiai. Some of the politicians no doubt felt Kiai Achmad's ideas to be an attack on their own interpretation of what NU stood for, and many of the kiai too were not at once convinced by his arguments against radicalism and in favour of moderation and accommodation. The terms he used in support, tawassuth, i'tidal and tawazun, were known to the kiai and understood to represent desirable attitudes. Many kiai privately said, however, that they had never before heard NU's ideals and values defined by these terms; Kiai Achmad's interpretation of them too was new to many.22 That in the end he carried the day was due to his excellent personal credentials, being Machfoezh Shiddiq's younger brother and having been Wahid Hasjim's personal secretary, and to the political skills he had acquired in his long bureaucratic career. The 'Tim Tujuh' and the Situbondo Decisions Kiai Achmad was not the only one who attempted to lay down in writing what, according to him, was the essence of NU's tradition. Not long after Kiai Bisri Syansuri's death a grave conflict divided the organisation into two opposing camps, commonly called the Cipete and Situbondo groups, after the residences of the major protagonists, Idham Chalid and Kiai As'ad Syamsul Arifin. Idham Chalid had, since 1956, been the chairman-general (ketua umum) of NU and had shown great political flexibility and willingness to serve any government in power. He had been the president of PPP since its establishment and also in this function apparently had connived in chairman Naro's purging of vocal NU deputies from the party's list of candidates for the 1982 elections. Idham became the chief target of the general dissatisfaction of the kiai with the Jakarta politicians. On the eve of the 1982 elections, the four most senior kiai from East and Central Java visited Idham and persuaded him to resign the chairmanship for 'health reasons'. A few days later, Idham withdrew his resignation under pressure from his closest

supporters. For over two years, until the congress of 1984, the organisation remained practically without an effective leadership. Idham was recognised by none but his closest supporters, but his opponents refrained from designating another chairman. The conflict was widely seen as one between kiai and politicians, even though kiai were to be found in both groups, as were politicians.23 A number of young and reform-minded men belonging to NU's elite families made concerted attempts to overcome the crisis. They attempted to mediate between the Cipete and Situbondo groups, and at the same time used, as best they could, the opportunity provided by the crisis to place themselves and their ideas in position to take over. This group included Abdurrahman Wahid, Fahmi Saifuddin (a medical doctor and rapidly rising bureaucrat, the son of Saifuddin Zuhri), the kiaipoet Musthofa Bisri of Rembang and another medical doctor, Muhammad Thohir of Surabaya (a nephew of Machfoezh and Achmad Siddiq). Inviting a few other kiai, young intellectuals and community development activists, they established in mid-1983 a forum to discuss the changes they thought necessary in NU.24 The Majlis-24, as this forum came to be called after the number of its members, appeared almost unanimous in their perception that three decades of practical politics had prevented NU from devoting sufficient attention to its religious, social and economic functions. Empty slogans and emotional posturing had taken the place of constructive efforts. It was felt that NU had got off the right track a long time ago and that it should attempt to regain its original purity by re-emphasising its identity as a jam'iyyah diniyyah, a religious association (the Arabic term as always suggesting a more profound meaning than could be expressed by its Indonesian equivalent). The forum called for the 'restoration' (pemulihan) of the original 'khittah' and gave a seven-man team (the 'Tim Tujuh') from their midst the task of formulating more explicit recommendations on the subject.25 The frequent references to the past and to the khittah of 1926 were not simply a transparent attempt to disguise reformist intentions and to claim traditional legitimation. The initiators of these debates had a genuine interest in the past. They dug up the original statutes of the organisation and the Arabic preamble to the statutes (titled Muqaddimah Al-Qanun al-asasi) written by Hasjim Asj'ari for guidance, and they later made both widely available.26 In its recommendations, however, the 'Tim Tujuh' even more clearly than Kiai Achmad Siddiq was looking forward to the future.27 The team did take up several of Kiai Achmad's ideas but it added an emphasis of its own. The fact that none of the seven was a kiai and that all were

concerned with the social and economic problems of the umat is evident both from the overall tone of the document and from the specific topics taken up for discussion. Of the various fields of activity discussed in the recommendations, education received the longest paragraph. It concentrated on modern science and technology and did not even mention religious education. This section was followed by a paragraph on social and economic activities, pleading for training in entrepreneurship and cooperatives, family planning, care for orphans and the aged, and community development. The same concern with the social and economic problems of the umat is perceptible in what the Tim Tujuh had to say on more strictly religious matters. It recommended that the concept of worship ('ibadah) be understood in a less restricted sense than had been common and that social solidarity and charitable work too be seen as acts of worship. The most formal, legalistic aspect of religion, the mazhab system should, according to the team, be made more flexible and responsive to new social developments and changing needs. In matters of organisation, finally, the team declared it urgent for NU to complete the transition from political party to Jam'yyah diniyyah--it clearly did not subscribe to Kiai Achmad's claim that the transition had in fact been made in 1973. What exactly this transition should mean was not made more explicit, and members of the Tim Tujuh would a few years later find themselves in conflict with each other over the consequences to be drawn from this recommendation. The team furthermore judged that supreme leadership in NU should be held by the Syuriah, the ulama council, and not, therefore, by the Jakarta-based politicians of the Tanfidziah (executive board), as it had effectively been for most of the past three decades. The reform-minded group had its lobbying well organised (which no doubt was facilitated by the fact its ideas were quite agreeable to the government). The recommendations of the Tim Tujuh were submitted to and largely adopted by the NU conference (Munas, 'national consultation') of December 1983 and the congress of the following year, both in Situbondo. The congress elected Abdurrahman Wahid as the new chairmangeneral, and no less than eleven other members of the Majlis-24 were also given positions on the new board. The greatest winner, however, was Kiai Achmad Siddiq, who had become the inevitable choice for rais am, due no doubt to strong backing from the government as well as his own clever manoeuvring. The 'Situbondo decisions' incorporate most of Achmad Siddiq's earlier formulations. The influence of the younger reformers is most clearly

evident in the demand for a greater social relevance of NU activities at the Situbondo Munas and congress, which became even louder on subsequent occasions. The Munas discussed syu'un ijtima'iyyah (a new but traditional-sounding term meaning 'matters of social concern') and decided to carry out a number of modest community development projects: cooperatives, legal aid, a self-reliant transmigration project and clean water procurement. Clearly there was less than unanimity among the delegates as to what constituted matters of social concern, for among the matters of social concern listed in another recommendation by the same Munas we find the cost of the haj, the need for a handbook on how to coach new converts to Islam, proper Islamic dress, the separation of boys and girls on the sports field. The emphasis on social relevance also found expression in a new and different approach to the discussion of religious questions, always an important part of the proceedings at any NU congress. Questions to which local branches had not been able to find satisfactory answers were discussed in a separate session at the congress, where NU's leading fiqh experts gave their opinions. In the past, these questions had always been haphazard and not related to each other, and they were usually answered very briefly, with a reference to an authoritative fiqh work but without any attempt to explain why this reference was relevant to the case at hand.28 The reformers wished both different, more relevant questions and a different, more intellectual, way of answering them. At the 1984 congress, participants in the sessions discussing religious questions were confronted with a number of questions prepared in advance, several of which appealed to a sense of social justice. 'Which is more meritorious: performing the haj more than once if one can afford it, or using those funds to improve social welfare?29 Can zakat, or part of it, instead of being divided among the entitled recipients, be used to other purposes that are in the public interest?'29 On later occasions-the 1987 Cilacap Munas and the 1989 congress in Yogyakarta-the people who prepared the questions deliberately phrased them so that it was almost impossible to simply look up an answer in a fiqh book. Each question consisted of a number of sub-questions covering a range of situations, formulated in such _a way that they could hardly be mechanically answered but required deeper reflection. Two of the problems discussed at the 1989 congress were 'medical' questions reminiscent of important ethical debates in the West. Is a testament valid that bequeathes one's organs for transplantation to some person who needs them, considering

that one of the conditions for the validity of a bequest is one's full ownership?' The answer to this one--after some discussion and quoting of appropriate texts--was negative, because according to the syari'ah one's organs are not one's own property but belong to God alone. The ulama decided to add to this answer, almost as an afterthought, that human organ transplants are allowed when medically necessary and when there is no alternative cure. The second question concerned euthanasia. The people who had prepared this one clearly intended to stimulate a fundamental discussion on the subject and presented a number of interesting hypothetical cases. May the costly treatment of an incurable patient (far beyond the financial capacities of his family) be stopped at his own request? Or of a patient who has been in coma for a long time without any hope of his regaining consciousness? Or, out of pity, the treatment of the victim of an accident who is certain to remain a physical and mental cripple if he lives? Where, the questions continued, does Islam place the boundary between life and death, and which are the outward signs by which life or death may be defined? The ulama declined to be drawn into a debate on these choices; they agreed that Islam enjoins the protection of life under all circumstances and that euthanasia is therefore strictly forbidden. The only question that did engender a lively debate in which rational arguments were used and not just quotations from fiqh books, consisted of a rephrasing of a question negatively answered at the previous congress. May zakat, instead of being distributed in the form of money and/or food, also be spent on some productive investment on behalf of the same beneficiaries? Simply phrased, what should one give the poor, fish or fish hooks? This question was of course directly relevant to the role NU wished to play in alleviating the poverty and backwardness of most of its constituency. Many of the ulama tended to respond emotionally to this question and answer with arguments based in a conception of fairness. The discussion, incidentally, remained inconclusive (apart from the provisional stricture that any alternative uses of the zakat should be agreed upon by those who have a right to its enjoyment). Conclusion Kiai Achmad Siddiq and the younger group of reformers have been successful in effecting a major shift in traditionalist discourse within NU. This shift was in congruence with the partially voluntary realignment of priorities away from political to educational and community welfare-oriented activities. The

emphasis in Kiai Achmad's formulations on the middle path between extremes and on tolerance towards others was no doubt also viewed favourably by the government. This did not mean, however, that these principles were simply stated for reasons of political expedience. Both Kiai Achmad and many of the younger reformers were genuinely convinced of the need for dialogue rather than confrontation with different sections of the umat and with non-Muslims. Abdurrahman Wahid especially has repeatedly asserted his firm support for an inclusive nationalism over and against all forms of 'sectarianism' (a term that refers to narrower group loyalties and perception of non-Muslims as potential enemies). His strongest praise for Kiai Achmad Siddiq as a thinker concerned the latter's ideas on the concept of ukhuwwah, 'brotherhood.' Ukhuwwah Islamiyyah is a term commonly used in Indonesia to indicate the desirability of good relations between the various currents within Indonesian Islam, especially between NU and Muhammadiyah. Kiai Achmad put this ukhuwwah into practice when he presided over a formal reconciliation between both organisations. To this well-known ideal of brotherhood he added two new dimensions, which he named ukhuwwah wathaniyyah and ukhuwwah basyariyyah, indicating that they encompassed, respectively, the entire fatherland and all of humanity. These terms stood for his concern with the common interests of all Indonesians in their nation's economic and political welfare and with the common interests of all humanity in world peace and protection of the environment. He and Abdurrahman Wahid with a few others succeeded in introducing these concerns into traditionalist religious discourse. The same term of ukhuwwah, along with syu'un ijtima'iyyah and similar neo-traditional terms, also represent attempts to focus traditionalist discourse more on problems of social justice and economic development. In 1984 it was obvious that many of the ulama attending the congress failed to grasp what the reformers really wished to discuss, or simply refused to let themselves be drawn into that sort of discussion. In the following decade, however, many kiai gradually grew accustomed to a new style of discussion of religious questions. One of the initiatives born out of the Situbondo conference was a regularly convening study circle (halqah) in which young committed ulama with a few senior kiai addressed contemporary social and political problems, that were presented to them by outside experts. These discussions forced the participants at times to overstep the boundaries of the worn fiqh book discourse and think creatively.30 Taqlid and the mazhab were challenged and given slightly different meanings. Instead of following Imam Syafi'i's

mazhab, i.e. the ready-made answers of his school, some of the younger kiai suggested that taqlid should mean following his manhaj,' his method--which allows for much more flexibility. Thanks to the patronage of by now senior kiai such as Kiai Sahal Mahfudh and Kiai Imron Hamzah, the halqah discussions had a much wider impact than the relatively small number of participants might suggest. Some of the problems first discussed in the halqah were later presented in the religious discussions sessions at NU's 1992 Lampung Munas. The most remarkable decision of this conference was also an important victory for the halgah group. For the first time the assembled ulama accepted a form of collective ijtihad as a legitimate method of answering religious-juridical questions to which no unambiguous answer can be found by more established methods. This was a watershed decision, guaranteeing that not only what the ulama discuss is changing, but also the methods by which they discuss it. ********* 22 KH Muchith Muzadi of Jember, who for many years acted as Kiai Achmad Siddiq's secretary, told with relish of the surprise of many of his colleagues when they first read Kiai Achmad's booklet. 23 The conflict is discussed more extensively in my book on the Nahdlatul Ulama in the 1980s, NU. Tradisi, Relasi-Relasi Kuasa dan Pencarian Wacana Baru, LKiS, Yogyakarta, 1994. [Editors' note: a revised English-language version entitled Traditionalist Muslims in a Modernizing World: The Nahdlaful Ulama and Indonesia 's New Order is forthcoming.] 24 Besides those already mentioned, the Majlis 24 included the then junior Kiai Sahai Mahfudz (the first NU kiai to become actively involved in community development) and Muchith Muzadi of Jember (who often acted as Achmad Siddiq's secretary and is believed by many to be responsible for part of Siddiq's formulations), former student activist M. Zamroni, community development worker Abdullah Sjarwani, NU youth leader Slamet Effendy Yusuf, and the student leader and most promising young thinker, Masdar F. Mas'udi. 25 The members of this 'Tim Tujuh' were: H. Abdurrahman Wahid, M. Zamroni, H.M. Said Budairy, 11. Mahbub Djunaidi, H. Fahmi D. Saifuddin, H.M. Danial Tanjung and A. Bagdja, all of them young men based in Jakarta. Not a member of the team, but making crucial contributions to the ideas formulated and their later implementation was KH Mustofa Bisri of Rembang. 26 The statutes were published as an appendix to a book by a journalist

close to the reform-minded group, Choirul Anam, Pertumbuhan dan Perkembangan Nahdlatul I/lama (Sala: Jatayu, 1985). The Muqaddimah al-Qanun al-asasi was translated into Indonesian by KH Musthofa Bisri and later appended to the Situbondo decisions (Hasil Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama ke 27 Situbondo, pp. 121-132). Comparison of this translation with the earlier one mentioned in note 7 shows how much interpretation is involved in translating even a relatively simple text like this. 27 Pokok-pokok Pikiran Tentang Pemulihan Khittah Nahdlatul Ulama 1926 (Jakarta: Tim Tujuh Untuk Pemulihan Khittah NU 1926, 1983). I am grateful to Fahmi Saifuddin, a member of this team, for an enlightening expose on the process of 'return to the khittah.' 28 The questions and answers discussed at the first 25 congresses have been collected in three slim volumes titled Ahkam al-fuqaha, published by Toha Putra, Semarang. 29 Hasil Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama ke 27, pp. 62-66. 30 This halqah and its role in opening up fiqh discourse are discussed in my forthcoming book on NU. [Editor's note: for publications details, see footnote 23.] Chapter Eight The Liberal, Progressive Roots of Abdurrahman Wahid's Thought (1 Greg Barton Since assuming the chairmanship of Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) in December 1984 Abdurrahman Wahid's rhetoric has been marked by a decidedly liberal and progressive tone. He has made: much of the need for a positive and flexible attitude in responding to modernity, and has stressed that the plural, multi-communal nature of modern Indonesian society must be respected and defended against sectarian currents. In relation to sources of Islamic thought he has argued for a sophisticated synthesis of the best of modernist values and commitment to rationality and traditional scholarship and culture. He happily accepts the label 'progressive' being applied to his own thought, he says, because he is committed to ongoing adaptation in the social application of religious values in order to best meet evolving societal needs (though it should be remembered he remains 'conservative' in his core theological convictions). In the same way, he does not

at some length

shy from the label 'liberal', arguing that the core values of Islam are 'liberal' values. Are such laudable convictions truly integral to Abdurrahman's thought? Or are they merely something that he has found convenient to invoke in his long running maverick performance as chairman of NU and high profile public intellectual? To answer this question it is necessary to consider something of Abdurrahman's personal history and to take a close look at his writing from the period before he took up leadership of NU. Biographical Background At 3.00 a.m. on the morning of 5 December 1994 the tension that had been mounting for days at the 29'" National Congress of Nahdlatul Ulama suddenly gave way to euphoria on the part of his many vocal supporters, particularly amongst the NU youth. Abdurrahman Wahid had won a closely contested election to become general chairman (ketua umum) of Nahdlatul Ulama for the third time. [For a detail discussion of this congress refer to chapter 9.] In the eyes of many people, the election victory was not just a victory for 'Gus Dur', as Abdurrahman is popularly known, over his opponents in NU, it was also a victory over elements in the government who resented Abdurrahman's outspoken defence of liberal values. The unlikely hero in the large batik shirt who, despite government restrictions, had been able to rally several hundred thousand supporters in the centre of Jakarta two years earlier, was the focus of national attention as he, once again, overcame extensive opposition. Government figures aside, there are few other intellectuals in Indonesia today with the public profile of 'Gus Dur'. Abdurrahman's present position in Indonesian society is very much the product of an unusual combination of personal qualities, as well as a number of circumstantial factors, not least of which is his family background. Abdurrahman Wahid was born in Jombang in 1940 into a family of impeccable NU lineage. His grandfathers, Kiai Hasjim Asj'ari and Kiai Bisri Syansuri, were two of the founders of NU. His father, Kiai Wahid Hasyim, was the son of Kiai Hasjim Asj'ari, and his mother, Solichah, was the daughter of Kiai Bisri Syansuri. From an early age his mother impressed upon him a sense of destiny and an awareness of responsibility regarding NU. On the threshold of his youth this sense of responsibility was heightened dramatically by the death of his father in an automobile accident in April 1953. Abdurrahman had just turned 13. The impact of his father's tragically young death was, no doubt, made all the greater by the

fact that he was travelling together with his father in the car at the time of the accident and had the traumatic experience of watching his father die. At the time of his death Abdurrahman's father, aged thirty eight, was effectively leading NU.2 Up until April 1952 he had also been Minister for Religious Affairs. Abdurrahman's mother continued to play a vital informal role in the functioning of NU and consequently the family home in Jakarta, continued to be visited by NU leaders, other religious figures and politicians of various persuasions even after his father's death. Apart from being immersed in the world of NU kiai and politicians, Abdurrahman's parents saw to it that he was exposed to a wide range of social groups. When he was a young child he was periodically left in the care of a respected German friend of his father who happened to be a convert to Islam. It was at this time, he recounts, that he was first exposed to, and subsequently developed a life-long love of, classical European music. Later, from 1953 to 1957, when he was studying at Junior Economic High School (SMEP), he stayed at the home of the modernist leader Kiai Haji Junaid, a Muhammadiyah ulama and a member of the Muhammadiyah Majlis Tarjih (Religous Advisory Board). He then spent a number of years studying at some of the leading NU pesantren. From 1957 to 1959 he studied at Pesantren Tegalrejo at Magelang, completing his studies in less than half the usual time. From 1959 to 1963 he taught at Mu'allimat Bahrul Madrasah at Pesantren Tambak Beras, Jombang. During this period he also spent periods studying at Pesantren Krapyak in Yogyakarta, where he stayed in the home of prominent NU figure Kiai Haji Ali Ma'shum. In 1964 he left for Cairo, where he began attending classes at Ma'had 'Ali Dimsat al-Islamiyya within the famous Al-Azhar Islamic University. He found the intellectual atmosphere at AlAzhar stultifying, however, with the main didactic technique being rote memorisation. This was not, he felt, any great advance on the sort of education to be found in a good pesantren in Java. Abdurrahman made good use of his time in Cairo, he Says, by not wasting too much of it on classes at Al-Azhar! Instead, he preferred to spend his time at one of the city's several well-equipped libraries, such as the American University Library. Whilst Abdurrahman was disappointed with Al-Azhar as an institution, he enjoyed the cosmopolitan life of the Egyptian capital, and he took advantage of the opportunity to join discussion groups and to generally exchange ideas with young Egyptian intellectuals, and with others who had come to study in Cairo. During this time in Cairo he also developed an enduring passion for French cinema and for soccer.

From Cairo, Abdurrahman moved to Baghdad were he spent four years studying not islamic studies, as might have been expected, but Arabic literature and culture, and also European philosophy and social theory. He was much happier, he says, with the university system in I3aghdad, which in many ways was a far more European system than that of Al-Azhar. Abdurrahman was chairman of the Association of Indonesian Students in the Middle East from 1964 to 1970. In 1971 Abdurrahman visited Europe hoping to secure a university place, but found this difficult to do, as his studies in Cairo and Bagdad were not recognised in Europe. He also had thoughts of going to McGill University in Canada to study in its highly respected Islamic Studies program, but finally decided to return to Indonesia, in part because he had been inspired by news of exciting developments in the pesantren world. Later that year Abdurrahman returned to Indonesia and to pesantren life. From 1972 to 1974 he was a lecturer and Dean of the Faculty of Theology (Ushuludin) at the small Hasyim Asy'ari University in Jombang. Then, from 1974 to 1980, he was secretary-general of the Tebuireng pesantren in Jombang. During this period he steadily became more involved in the national leadership of NII, becoming first secretary (katib awal) of the NU Supreme Religious Council (Syuriah) in 1979, in Jakarta. Since moving to Jakarta in 1978, he had become head (pengasuh) of the Ciganjur pesantren, in South Jakarta. He was also involved in a number of other projects and activities in Jakarta including teaching in a monthly training program for Protestant clergy. From the mid-1970s he was in regular contact with other progressive Islamic intellectuals such as Nurcholish Madjid and Djohan Effendi and when he had moved to Jakarta he joined them in a series of academic forums and study cells. Abdurrahman fitted easily into these circles, even though his own formal educational background appeared, on the face of it, to be very different to that of his peers in Jakarta. In fact, he was intellectually very well equipped to participate in the prevailing discourse about western thought, Islamic learning and Muslim society. Although he had not had an opportunity for formal education in the west, he had read widely in western thought from an early age.3 Moreover, his studies in Baghdad had given him a good grounding in secular, western-style, liberal-arts education. At the same time as he became an active participant in Jakarta's Islamic study groups, and the general discussion about the development of Islamic thought, he also began to become involved in the broader intellectual life of the city. From 1982

to 1985, for example, he was head of the Jakarta Arts Council (Ketua Dewan Kesenian Jakarta), and in the process was twice elected as chairman of the Council of Judges of the National Film Festival (Ketua Dewan Juri Festival Film Nasional) an unusual appointment for a figure from the pesantren world, but typical of Abdurrahman. From 1980· to 1983 he was Nominator for the Agha Khan Award for islamic Architecture in Indonesia. Then from 1985 to 1990 he served on the Indonesian Council of Ulama (Majlis Ulama Indonesia). Since 1994 he has been an Adviser to the International Dialogue Foundation Project on Perspective Studies of Syari'ah (Islamic law) and Secular Law at The Hague. Abdurrahman's upbringing and education represents a rich amalgam of traditionalist Islamic learning and modern 'western' education. Given his background, the former element is to be expected; the latter is rather more unusual. To a certain extent the element of western education is something that his parents deliberately fostered. At the very least they saw to it that he was exposed to a wide range of people and influences. At another level, however, western learning is something that Abdurrahman deliberately sought out, even when he was studying in pesantren and in the Middle East. Clearly a different individual, in the same circumstances, could easily have avoided any exposure to western thought at all. Thus the fact that most of his 'western' learning was essentially informal (even in Bagdad Abdurrahman did not complete a formal degree program) does not diminish its significance. It is also clear, however, that Abdurrahman is thoroughly at home in the world of traditionalist Islam and NU and had no desire to leave it. Indeed it seems fair to say that he is passionate about traditionalist Islam; for this certainly is borne out by his writing, as we shall see shortly. Abdurrahman then, represents a coming together of two intellectual traditions: that of traditionalist Islamic scholarship and that of 'modern', 'western' learning. It would appear that one outcome of this synthesis is a strongly felt concern for the reform of Islamic thought and practice, a concern that shares much with Islamic modernism, at least in its earlier phases. An Examination of Abdurrahman Wahid's Writing from the 1970s Abdurrahman's literary output through the decade of the 1970s falls clearly into two distinct periods. The first period, from 1973 to the end of 1977, is one of a modest output of articles, mostly about pesantren life. During this period he wrote several articles a year, the major portion of which have been

preserved amongst the 12 articles in Bunga Rampai Pesantren (A Pesantren Anthology), a book dealing wholly with pesantren issues.4 His move to Jakarta in late 1977 saw the beginning of a new phase of writing in which he became much more prolific. Muslim di Tengah Pergumulan (A Muslim in the Midst of a Struggle) contains seventeen articles on a wide variety of topics, written in a period of just over three years, beginning in January 1978.5 This latter period also witnessed the emergence of Abdurrahman as a public intellectual, a move that was marked not only by his appearance in the circles of Jakarta intellectuals but also by a regular flow of essays in the Jakarta press, in particular in the weekly current affairs magazine Tempo. It is significant that Abdurrahman begins the forewords to both of his books by discussing how difficult it is to isolate a unifying theme or an order to his writings. This is no doubt in large part simply an expression of fact: both books contain a wide range of articles written for diverse purposes and audiences. In part though it would appear that Abdurrahman's initial confession of difficulty in finding order in his collected works is a ploy to point the readers in the direction in which he himself sees his work leading. Thus, in the second paragraph of his foreword to Bunga Rampai Pesantren Abdurrahman proffers the following suggestion: ....at the very least, one can trace in these writings written over a period of many years, an overarching call: an invitation to those within the pesantren system to develop their pesantren, both individually and collectively. What is meant by development of pesantren here is the process wherein, whatever the approach taken, new ideas from the outside world are applied within the pesantren as required, whilst at the same time that which is positive and beneficial from the original character of the pesantren is maintained and built up, resulting in a fusion of the best of two worlds, that is, the world of old from which the pesantren sprang and the new world, the world to which it is now moving.6 Similarly, in the foreword to Muslim di Tengah Pergumulan, after an initial self-effacing confession of difficulty in isolating a grand theme, Abdurrahman does in fact go on to suggest a certain order and purpose: It is not at all surprising that the various pieces of writing in this anthology are difficult to bring together into any sort of whole. In fact even pieces dealing with the same issues, seen from the same point of view and taking the

same approach, but written during very different periods, can evidence ideas that appear to be at odds with each other. Clearly, changing times and circumstances can very easily have us arrive at different ways of thinking about the same matters. Those who once were thought of as 'reformers' are now referred to as 'modernists'. That which was initially regarded as rigid conservatism is now seen to have its own dynamic of growth and development and is now referred to as being 'dynamic traditionalism'. It is clear that the relationship between a 'reform-minded' point of view and a 'rigidly conservative' point of view; between 'modernism' and 'traditionalism', has itself undergone qualitative change just as there has been a change in terminology. What was initially formulated in terms of a dichotomous relationship that reflected a profound disagreement of ideas, in time clearly called for reformation in terms of a complementary relationship involving mutual influence based upon dialectical exchange.7 In both books, the unifying theme which Abdurrahman is suggesting might be summed up as 'responding to modernity'. A particular focus in the earlier book is the appreciation and preservation of the best of the pesantren subculture, whilst the latter book is concerned more with illuminating the complexities of the issues involved in responding to the challenges of modernity. Nevertheless the articles in both anthologies have in common a commitment to intelligent growth and progress. Not surprisingly, the same is true of Abdurrahman's numerous magazine and newspaper articles from the late 1970s. If there is a distinctive characteristic of this third group of writings it is that in these short popular essays, Abdurrahman's fundamental humanitarianism, his concern for social harmony, tolerance and the rights and interests of others, comes strongly to the fore. This humanitarianism is grounded in his understanding of Islam. Throughout all his work from the 1970s, but in the later Tempo essays especially, it is clear that Abdurrahman believes that a true expression of Islam is only achieved when 'the spirit of the law', the hakikat (the inner truth) is made of first importance. Even if it comes at the expense of conventional interpretations of the 'letter of the law'. Moreover, Abdurrahman is convinced that the fundamental humanitarian concerns of Islam make it clear that Muslims should not fear the plural nature of modern society but rather that they should respond positively to it. Abdurrahman's pluralistic outlook permeates his writing, and is made evident in a multitude of subtle ways. His breadth of vision and openness of

mind are seen in his broad reading and his willingness to be challenged in his thinking by writers from every background and conviction. Further evidence of Abdurrahman's pluralism, as well as his humanitarian convictions, are to be found in his passion for democratic reform, freedom of speech and liberal values in general. Undergirding this humanitarian thrust in Abdurrahman's thought are two other major elements: a profound commitment to 'rationality' and the conviction that through ongoing rational endeavour Islam is more than able to meet the challenges of modernity. Writing from the 1970s The approach taken in this study of Abdurrahman's writing is to, as much as is possible, jet him speak for himself. Consequently quotations are used liberally, and the writing is examined article by article in order to contextualise the line of commentary. We shall begin our examination of Abdurrahman's writing with an article that reflects his concerns about the future development of pesantren, and reflects his conviction that traditional Islamic scholarship and modern, western learning should be properly and intelligently integrated in pesantren education. 'Leadership in the Development of Pesantren' 'Kepemimpinan Dalam Pengembangan Pesantren' (Leadership in the Development of Pesantren) examines in depth the problematic nature of pesantren leadership.8 The first of several problems endemic to pesantren leadership that Abdurrahman focuses upon is that of the difficulty of responding to growth and change. Abdurrahman argues that the idiosyncratic style of leadership that is so effective in the early stages of establishing a pesantren, is often the source of difficulty in later stages of development. Very often, he suggests, the personal style of the kiai becomes a straight-jacket to his assistants and successors. The result is a certain listlessness in planning and a tendency to simply be guided by the 'natural course of events' and random external factors. This lack of planning and foresight, he continues, pervades matters as elemental as succession of leadership, with debilitating results as rival successors are left to assert their 'right' leadership in the wake of the former kiai's death. Another weakness, parochialism, also hinders the

performance of pesantren leaders, especially in the modern period when many of them are required at some stage to exercise regional or national leadership: A pesantren leader who had gained greater influence as a result of expanding the region of origin of santri entering his pesantren is often unable to match this growth in personal influence with a corresponding growth in the quality of leadership sufficient to meet the difference between levels being faced. His mental horizon is very often local, or at the most regional, in nature. Rarely is such a person able to take in the national horizon when considering the development d pesantren, in such a way that he does not merely consider the pesantren which he himself is managing, or the I7csanr,en in the immediate vicinity.9 For these and other reasons, Abdurrahman continues, many pesantren leaders do not feel the necessity to plan for growth and change, and feel threatened by the current push to increase the amount of secular curriculum material into pesantren programs. Even where the introduction of a secular curriculum (alongside the traditional religious curriculum) has been encouraged, the results have not always been entirely satisfactory: It is this very challenge to race forwards and master nonreligious knowledge which represents one of the tasks that pesantren must carry out. There have been a number of fundamental weaknesses in the efforts to develop nonreligious elements in the pesantren curriculum up till now. The most fundamental weakness is found in the very nature of these efforts, which place great stress upon the intellectualist verbalisation of bombastic theoretical formulations but are unable to solve the practical issues that lie right before their eyes. The second fundamental weakness is the handling of curricula and their component parts in a piecemeal fashion, failing to employ a holistic, multidiscipline, approach (which is proven by, amongst other things, the separation of social-economic studies from socialcultural studies and the natural sciences). The third fundamental weakness is the continuing failure to achieve complete and well-rounded integration of religious and nonreligious elements. Awareness of these fundamental weaknesses introduces the need for further developments relating to the pesantren itself, and not just the curriculum that it employs.

The aim of these developments in the pesantren must be the integration of religious and non-religious knowledge, so that the graduates it produces will possess personalities that are complete and well rounded, containing within themselves strong elements of faith and a balanced mastery of knowledge. People with these qualities will have a broad mental horizon, a mature outlook on life, and will bring a multi-faceted character to solving the various problems that they might face. In other words, people who are able to look well ahead but at the same time have the sort of practical skills that enable them to solve their own problems in a thorough fashion. It is very clear that these sort of aspirations require a willingness to develop the pesantren, because with the system of education currently in place it is impracticable for the pesantren to achieve these goals. The failure firstly to understand, and then to fulfil, the needs set forth above means nothing less than that the pesantren becomes increasingly left behind in the cultural arena of our nation in the days to come. In other words, an increasing gap between pesantren life and the life of society outside the pesantren.10 Abdurrahman contends that if pesantren leaders do not seize the initiative to bring pesantren more into line with broader contemporary society then we shall shortly see the death of this institution: The pesantren will become a remnant from the past, possessing no rights whatsoever to influence the shaping 6 education nationally in the days to come. In the long run, this being left behind will mean the death-knell of the pesantren, because whatever happens it is clear that society in future will not be able to support and sustain a system of education which is completely cut free from the national education program. There are a number of reasons, apart from financial reasons, as to why society will not be able to ********* 1 I am very appreciative of the assistance of Greg Fealy in the article.

preparation of this

2 In the period leading up to his death KH Wahid Hasjim was deputy chairman (ketua muda)KH Masjkur was chairman (ketua umum) of NU KH Masjkur's duties at the Department of Religious Affairs, and KH Wahid's superior qualities as a leader, however, meant that it was Wahid who effectively managed NU.

3 There remains at pesantren Tegalrejo an interesting reminder of his broad intellectual interests. In his former quarters there is cupboard containing his books, for the most part serious titles in English. Much of his time at Tegalrejo was spent reading westem philosophy and social theory. I am grateful to Greg Fealy for this information. 4 Abdurrahman Wahid, Bunga Rampai Pesantren: Kumpulan Karya Tulis Abdurrahman Wahid, CV Dharma Bhakti, (Jakarta, 1978). 5 Abdurrahman Wahid, Muslim di Tengah Pergumulan, Leppenas (Jakarta, 1981). 6 Wahid, Bunga Rampai Pesantren, p. 3. 7 Wahid, Muslim Di Tengah Pergumulan, p.3. 8 'Kepemimpinan Dalam Pengembangan Pesantren', in ibid., pp. 165-78. This paper was originally presented at the Latihan Pembinaan Pondok Pesantren Se-Indonesia, in Jakarta, from 25 September to 8 October 1978. 9 ibid., p.169 10 Ibid., pp. 171-2. give support, that is to say, cultural reasons: school-aged children will not be attracted to enter an education system that is not regarded as having any national identity.11 The remedy to the current malaise, Abdurrahman argues, lies not with one single strategy, such as integration of pesantren into the national system of education (although that is undoubtedly essential for its ongoing survival) but with changing the nature of pesantren leadership: It is only in this way that dynamic leadership of the pesantren will be able to prevent a protraction of the crisis in the pesantren, and develop the pesantren to become an educational and social institution that it is truly capable of facing the challenges oftime.12 'Making Islamic Law Conducive to Development' In his writing from the 1970s, Abdurrahman is often critical of certain aspects of Islamic education, both in the pesantren and tertiary sectors. He was even more critical, however, of the narrowness of traditional thought that developed concerning Islamic jurisprudence, as is seen in his 1975 article 'Menjadikan

Hukum Islam sebagai Penunjang Pembangunan' (Making Islamic Law Conducive to Development).13 It is one thing to criticise contemporary systems of Islamic education, it is quite another to criticise that which, to many, represents nothing less than the codification of God's eternal will. That Abdurrahman does not shy from the task is testimony to his character and his entire way of thinking. Abdurrahman's incisive and far-reaching criticism of Islamic jurisprudence in Menjadikan Hukum Islam sebagai Penunjang Pembangunan' appears all the more remarkable when it is remembered that it was written in 1975, when Abdurrahman was a young 35 year old, little-known pesantren leader. While the same article from Abdurrahman's pen in the 1990s would be received with little surprise, its appearance almost two decades ago should serve as a reminder that Abdurrahman, the bold and independently-minded chairman of NU and outspoken public intellectual, has been a long time in the making. The text of 'Menjadikan Hukum Islam sebagai Penunjang Pembangunan' is densely layered and carefully argued, and is well deserving of careful examination. Here, however, the discussion will focus on a few seminal points. This should be sufficient to demonstrate the nature of Abdurrahman's quarrel with contemporary Islamic thought, and in doing so, should serve well as a bridge to the next section. Abdurrahman's first quarrel with current Islamic legal thinking is that it is essentially apologetic in tone and substance. That is to say, it is more concerned with the defence of an idealised abstract position than it is with meeting a real and immediate need: The pattern of thinking regarding Islam in this country is, in the same way, very apologetic in nature, able only to proclaim a vision of an ideal world in which Islamic law, it is emphatically proclaimed, has the power to bring happiness in this life and in the life to come, a world of the form of a city of God (civitas Dei) far beyond the reach of this present age, with all of its needs and critical issues requiring urgent attention and instant solutions. Should we then be surprised if Islamic law has lost its relevance to the developments in our lives all around us?14 The way forward, Abdurrahman argues, is clear enough: In order to become relevant Islamic law has to develop for itself a dynamic character. In doing this it needs to formulate itself as supporter of the development of national

law in this realm of development. This dynamic character can only be obtained if Isiamic law focuses its attention upon the sort of worldly issues that our nation is struggling with at present, and provides solutions for the real life problems facing us at this point in time. It is being demanded of Islamic law that it develop itself in this way in a process of fluid change, and not be simply bound to the visions of a fantasised reality conceived in accordance with theories created in a long past age. This self-development requires a vision that extends well beyond the circle 6 Islamic legal experts themselves. In other words, it requires taking a multi-dimensional approach to life, and not simply remaining bound to normative formulations long since settled, that are, in fact, virtually at the point of becoming fossils.15 What is required, Abdurrahman insinuates, is a new reform movement, a new process of reform to bring the science of Islamic jurisprudence up-to-date with the demands of modernity, for the early reform movements, including modernism, have failed that which is required by modern society. A onedimensional approach, he argues, is insufficient for the needs of society: In the failure to evaluate the long-term consequences 6 these two characteristics can be seen the failure of reformation after reformation which have occurred in the field of Islamic law down to the present. The reformation of al-Syafi'i (died 205 H/820 CE) succeeded in eliminating haphazard decision-making processes. His method, which became known by the name 'tariq al-istiqra', succeeded in simplifying the haphazard decision-making processes and creating a system that later came to be known as roots 6 jurisprudence (usul al-fiqh), as is manifested in his monumental work on jurisprudence, al-Risalah. But the efforts of al-Syafi'i himself ultimately failed to ward off the process by which religious law was made irrelevant as a consequence of being tied to an overly literal approach to the use of words and terms. In the same way the efforts in our nation of the reform movement led by Muhammadiyah, and the fundamentalist movement of Persis, which continued in this line, came to the same end. Until now, efforts to reinvigorate religious law have continued to have a sectarian character and have really only been successful in reinvigorating one or two aspects of life, because of their mono-dimensional approach. Seen on a broad scale, the re-

invigoration that was hoped for failed to eventuate. In fact, there was a tendency for the intended re-invigoration to ultimately give birth to what were simply new variations on existing rigid formulations, in other words, creating a kind of neo-conservatism. [Abdurrahman then writes in a footnote:] This neo-Conservatism occurs in almost all matters where there is a very closed-minded attitude to changes in the way in which God's will is understood to be communicated free from linguistic strait-jacketing. For example, they have reacted very strongly, in comparison with other groups, to the pembaruan (reform) ideas of Drs Nurcholish Madjid and his friends, which very much revolve around changes in the meaning of items of terminology which are used to explain faith and the place of humankind with respect to God.)16 In effect, Abdurrahman argues, the achievement of a degree of modernity in one or two areas by Islamic modernists does not represent the achievement of full modernity: one swallow does not a summer make. Furthermore, over time modernism has given way to, and even produced, a new kind of conservatism that now stands in the way of further progress (which Abdurrahman clearly sees represented, at least in part, by thinkers such as Nurcholish Madjid). What is now required, Abdurrahman argues, is the formulation of new principles of hermeneutics and jurisprudence that better meet the contextual demands of the modern age. These principles, he suggests, must reflect the humanitarian spirit of Islam and allow it to speak to the needs of today's generation: This setting of limits to the field in which Islamic law should operate must be accompanied by efforts to formulate principles for decision making in matters of religious law which better reflect the needs of our age. Human judgement must be given due place. In fact the focus of legal decision making has to be directed towards the integration of human judgement with principles of jurisprudence. To this end, in the long run, consideration must be given to the possibility of developing a system of jurisprudence that is better able to anticipate the possible developments relating to life in the future. Initially, the methodology for developing this jurisprudence must be discussed and developed behind closed doors, given the sensitive nature of the issues. Issues such as how to resolve the apparent conflict between science and God's revelation, together with scholarship down through the ages, have to be discussed in a profound fashion

if they are to give rise to the formation of a satisfactory methodology for the development of jurisprudence as outlined above. As an example. is it right that the prohibition against acting out of a fear of poverty (khauf alimlaq) should apply to society as a mass (khitab 'am), to the point where, as a society, we have to give up efforts in birth control, even though there is clear evidence that we are in danger of a population explosion? Is it not rather the case that this prohibition applies to Muslims at an individual level and serves to keep them from living in a fatalistic fashion, commanding them instead to work hard in order to gain the daily sustenance promised by God? If the distinction made here between the understanding that applies to the mass of society (mafhum 'am) and that which applies to the individual (mafhum khas) can be accepted, where then do we draw the line between the two?17 At the heart of Abdurrahman's argument is the conviction that Islam is not static, and that the teaching of Islam is not something which is given once and never again requires reformulation or reapplication. In other words, he is arguing that an essential characteristic of Islamic law is that it must be contextually interpreted, and therefore, when the social and historical context changes, as it does constantly, so too must the application of eternal principles of that body of law: This invitation for growth and re-invigoration is not an invitation to tear down Islamic law. Rather, an invitation such as this is simply intended to align Islamic law to the needs of the moment, to align it to the constantly changing needs of humankind. What is intended is that efforts be made to make it more sensitive to the needs of humanity in this present age and in the age to come. Through this sensitivity Islamic law will constantly make the adjustments required, without sacrificing its transcendental values as fixed by God who must be praised. Through this sensitivity Islamic law will continue to contribute to the development of the nation, that is to say it will create dynamic principles for life based upon an awareness of the necessity for men and women to labour within the limits of their ability as mere creatures.18 Clearly then, the need to respond creatively to the challenges of modernity lies at the heart of his thought. This is very much the business of the following section.

'Pesantren Dynamisation and Modernisation ' Everything that Abdurrahman has done (not just in the 1970s but in the 1980s and 1990s also), he would argue, has been based on the twin convictions that the ideals of Islam, properly realised, can form the basis of a just, fair and humane society, and that the full potential of Islam in this modern age will only be realised when Islamic thought is allowed to respond creatively to the demands and challenges of modernity. In seeking to define the sort of ongoing creative response to change that is demanded of Islam in the late twentieth century one of the key terms employed by Abdurrahman is dinamisme. The Indonesian word 'dinamis' (from which Abdurrahman derives the noun form 'dinamisme') may have its origins in the English word 'dynamic' but it has travelled considerably since leaving the English language, to the point where, in Indonesian, it has come to mean not just the quality of being energetic and full of life, but also the ability to adapt and respond creatively to difficult circumstances.19 Abdurrahman invokes all of this and more in his usage of the word, as can be seen in this quotation from an article he presented at a LP3ES conference on pesantren in 1973 'Dinamisasi Dan Modernisasi Pesantren' (Pesantren Dynamisation and Modernisation): Before touching upon the issues referred to in the title 6 this discussion it is necessary to clarify what is meant by the use of the terms dynamisation and modernisation. Dynamisation, in the first instance, entails two processes: arousing once more existing positive life values/principles as well as replacing old values with new and more perfect values. This process of changing over values is known as modernisation.20 At the same time, the word dynamisation itself, in the usage being employed here, connotes 'moving in the direction of perfection', through the use of existing instruments and attitudes to life as a base. This principle is being put to the fore here because of the conviction that concepts that currently seem alien to the pesantren will in the future come to be an enormous stumbling block. We trust that this approach of seeking the acceptance of the pesantren itself will, in the long run. produce better results than any other conceptual approach.21 This 1973 article, it should be remembered, dates from very early in Abdurrahman's career, but already his conception of dinamisasi, a matter that is to become a cardinal element in his

thought, is clearly well worked out. Abdurrahman believes that the present disarray, uncertainty and upheaval evident in the pesantren system, has its origin in two areas. Firstly it is, to a certain extent, a reflection of the generally troubled nature of Indonesia-s society in transition. Secondly it arises out of an awareness that the capacity of pesantren to face the challenges of modernitv is scarcely adequate; their structures are stagnated and they are ill equipped to respond to change. On top of all of this there is great difficulty in getting traditional village communities to provide adequate financial support. In the light of these difficulties it is essential, he argues, that pesantren respond appropriately to the challenges of modernity. Obviously the kind of triumphalism that seeks solace in past 'golden ages' is of no help here, but neither is 'pseudo-modernism', a superficial response to modernity that affects the appearance of progress but avoids its substance: The disturbed conditions of the pesantren system are seen manifested in two kinds of reaction to life values in this present time of transition. The first reaction takes the form of closing one's self off to developments in 'outside' society, especially in activities which are regarded as threatening the purity of religious life. This isolation occurs in such a Fashion as to practically prevent all forms of meaningful exchange of ideas with the outside world. Pesantren which choose to react in this fashion end up drowning in fond dreams about the glories of a long past era, and in activities intended to force the standards of that long past age onto society. Growing up amongst all of these activities are myths about the sacredness of pesantren leaders, to the point where there are all sorts of hagiographic efforts to lionise, to raise to the status of wali (saint), willy-nilly, people whose approach to life differs from the ordinary. The second reaction is to engage in what are in fact solidarity-making activities aimed at creating solidarity between the pesantren and broader society. The stirring up of this process is accompanied by an approach to life that makes a display of things that are ostensibly modern (pseudo-modernism). Techniques and methods of 'modernising oneself are developed in such a fashion as to leave the unavoidable impression of snobbery on the part of some sections of the pesantren community. One such example is the 'cultural adaptation of a modern face' in the form of endless array of grandiose ceremonies. Very scarce financial resources are, it would seem, not used in a wise

fashion, but are instead spent on showy activities of the kind referred to by some as the 'the rule of the microphone'.22 What is required, Abdurrahman argues, is a commitment to seeking a middle way, balancing religious tradition with the practical demands that arise in response to modernity and the need to progress. One of the keys to success in this area is the inclusion of youth in pesantren leadership: The younger leaders in the pesantren, when included little by little in the process of leadership, are able to bring together the practical requirements for progress (especially the material ones) and the religious traditions which they have inherited from earlier generations. The most important issue facing us now is how to bring together the younger leaders in forums such as this one, in an enduring and widespread fashion.23 To this Abdurrahman adds a second prerequisite: the total overhaul of pesantren curricula and teaching material. The most important prerequisite for a wide-ranging and profound process of dynamisation is the wholesale reformulation of teaching material for religious learning. Classical texts and 'modern' text books a [a Mahmud Junus and Hasbi Ash-shiddieqi alike have exhausted their power to motivate development of a sense of belonging in religious life. From primary level teaching to tertiary institutions, santri (Muslim students) are being fed theorems that they can no longer digest. Mastery of these theorems has become stagnant, and no longer demonstrates an evolving character. It is precisely these formulations that must be reconstructed, whilst not losing the essential elements of the religious teaching that up till now has been our inheritance. Mature traditionalism is far better than superficial pseudo-modernism.24 It is significant that Abdurrahman concludes this paper, and this call for dinamisasi with a warning, not to, as it were, 'throw the baby out with the bath water--not to completely discard traditional learning in the quest for renewal and reform. Not only is this understanding integral to his conception of dinamisasi as a process that is profound and sophisticated, a process that picks up the enduring virtues and core elements of traditional scholarship and carefully incorporates them into a modern approach to learning, but just as importantly it is

reflective of his conviction that traditional Islam has never been a static thing. In other words, Abdurrahman conceives of dinamisasi as not so much a twentieth century response to the pressures of modernity, but rather as an expression of Islam at its adaptive, flexible, traditional best. 'Good, but is it of any use?' 1980 saw Abdurrahman publish fourteen pieces of writing, eleven of them essays in Tempo magazine. The first of these Tempo articles was entitled 'Kyai Nyentrik Membela Pemerintah' (The Eccentric Kiai Stands up for the Government).25 This essay launched a series of essays on 'eccentric' kiai, with nine of the ensuing essays taking up the theme and discussing various colourful religious leaders. As traditional religious leaders each of these rather odd kiai share a common set of attitudes and approaches to dealing with the challenge of responding meaningfully to a rapidly changing world. Each of them, he argues, are, to varying degrees, distinguished by a rare flexibility of mind and ability to discern where the 'spirit of the law' must prevail over the 'letter of the law'. And whilst they are decidedly conservative figures they can also be said to be, in certain aspects, liberal and progressive in their thinking, being committed to the ongoing evolution of Islamic thought in relation to social practise. Abdurrahman uses these essays to educate his largely urban, middle class (and therefore predominately modernist or abangan) readership about the potential of traditionalist Islam to adapt and change, and about the level of humanitarian concern to be found in traditional Islam. But there is more to these essays than Abdurrahman being an apologist for traditional Islam. He is not talking about the average kiai, rather he is specifically focusing upon certain significant eccentric kiai in whom he finds a number of admirable traits and attitudes. He is arguing then, not so much for traditional Islam as for what it could be, and he is indicating the direction in which it should progress. In a Tempo essay entitled 'Balk Belum Tentu Bermanfaat' (Good, but is it of any use?) Abdurrahman writes about the jovial, independently-minded Kiai Ali Ma'shum (with whom he studied in Yogyakarta), or 'Kiai Ali Krapyak', as Abdurrahman refers to him in this essay.26 Kiai Ali's uniqueness lies not just in his goodnatured boldness that sees him dishing out advice to all whom he considers as being in need of his insights, from cabinet minister down, but in the paradoxical combination of playful sociability and strong religious convictions. Some, Abdurrahman suggests,

might argue that there is an inconsistency in taking a hard line on certain religious issues (such as the changes to the Marriage Law in 1973-4, the use of the symbol of kaabah (the large cuboid structure in the middle of the Great Mosque in Mecca) in the run up to the 1977 election) and yet being accommodative and easy going in social situations. Needless to say Abdurrahman does not see this as being a difficult charge to answer: The answer lies with the ability of Kiai Ali to discern between issues which are of essential importance to religion and those which are not; the ability to arrive at an accommodation with the demands of the day without forfeiting the original persona that is the source of the profoundest of religious values.27 There is, in fact, a great degree of consistency in every aspect of Kiai All's life, Abdurrahman argues. This is evident in his attitude to change in the traditional pesantren curriculum. Despite his long association with pesantren education Kiai Ali is not about to lend his support to reactionary 'die hard' ulama who protest every effort to modernise the pesantren system: On the contrary, he established a rather 'strange' religious school: along with the classical religious texts the santri are encouraged to read modern Middle Eastern literature. Along with studying classical Arabic grammar the santri are encouraged to study contemporary literature. Together with deepening their knowledge of Islamic law through studies in classical fiqh texts, they are directed to also make a careful comparative study of the legal traditions followed in the west and in the east. 'Why do you order them to study Abduh's books, aren't you afraid that they might wander away from NU?' Kiai Ali replies, laughing in his inimitable fashion: 'Wide reading will result in a mature NU.'28 He sees in Kiai All's approach an important principle, a principle that finds frequent endorsement in Abdurrahman's writing: Here we encounter a personality who strives to seek pragmatic solutions to complex religious problems. This is a pragmatism born of a union of a rational outlook and a strong faith in the truth of religious teaching.29 A good illustration of Kiai Ali's pragmatic approach at work

is seen in his attitude to the popular pesantren practice of tirakat, or fasting (or at least abstaining from all but liquids and a little fruit), a practice that seems injurious to healthy physical development in young santri, but is in line with the belief of the great medieval scholar, Al Ghazali, that such ascetic restraint benefits santri in their pursuit of religious insight. When asked what his opinion was of Imam Ghazali's call to fast in the manner described above, Kiai Ali's answer was 'well it is a good thing but it is not at all clear that it is of any benefit'. The ability to classify things based on a sophisticated system of classification is the key to the sort of adaptability demonstrated by Kiai Ali from Krapyak. Acknowledging that opinions formulated in the distant past can be good, whilst seeking new benefits, is one form of this adaptability. So, without doing violence to its roots, this adaptability is, all the same, pretty dynamic, is it not?30

'Kiai Razaq--The Flaming Kiai' In other cases the examples of what Abdurrahman calls 'dinamisasi' are not quite as extraordinary but the commitment to finding new answers for new problems is nevertheless clearly demonstrated, even if, by necessity, these new formulations are presented in old and familiar packaging. Abdurrahman depicts one example of this in an article entitled 'Kyai Razaq yang Terbakar' (Kiai Razaq-The Flaming Kiai).31 Thus Kiai Razaq, a rather provincial (Abdurrahman captures the thick Betawi dialect in his quotations), but shrewd, Betawi kiai, takes a public stand in support of transmigration (then much opposed by many kiai who felt that it threatened their communities). Why? Because if transmigration results in an improved standard of living, Muslims will have the means to pursue further education. Why did he not join his fellow kiai in their fear of the social change that modernity thrust upon their small communities? Evidently because he saw Islam not as a static entity, but rather as dynamic. Modernity, and the change that it brings, are not to be feared as long as Islamic learning does not stand still: Thus it is only right that he does not view modernisation as representing a threat. As long as there are ulama with a deep knowledge of religion, who lead the umat whilst filtering the impact of modernisation, there is no need for us to panic or become hysterical. So long as the young

continue, as they have done until now, to make a study of religious learning to, as they say, search after knowledge, then there will be sound process of selection in operation.32 'Co-education and the Guileless Kiai' A fellow spirit with Kiai Razaq is Kiai Sobari from Tebuireng, the subject of a 1980 article entitled 'Kyai Ikhlas dan Koedukasi' (Co-education and the Guileless Kiai).33 Kiai Sobari is well into his seventies and has the respect of all for his sincerity and simple lifestyle, and yet is maddeningly 'old fashioned' (kolor) on issues such as Family Planning and school curriculums. Why then, Abdurrahman writes, was he not 'up in arms' over the introduction of co-education schooling to his district? Why does he not protest, as many of his peers do, that the mixing of girls and boys in the classroom contravenes Qur'anic guidelines regarding modesty in relations between the sexes? Because, Abdurrahman argues, the intent of the Qur'anic injunctions was clearly the preservation of moral standards, and where else could it be safer for girls and boys to mix than in the school class room? The rationality of traditional. not to say old fashioned, kiai is not insignificant: The flexible approach of this unique 'old-fashioned' kiai is most interesting. because it has a number of implications. What is clear is that it is not right for us to regard these 'old-fashioned' kiai as forming opinions without any rational basis, being only able to pass on the contents of classical fiqh literature without expanding upon it in any way. 'Old fashioned' kiai like Kiai Sobari have a logic and rationality that is all their own, even though it differs from that based upon modern thought. They also have an ability to apply principles drawn from religious conclusions to concrete cases in accordance with what they understand to be the needs of the day. If this sort of rationality does not lead to a rational outlook in things such as Kiai Sobari's view of Family Planning, is it not so likely that the children will adopt a rational approach, without having to sever their roots in the religious principles that they inherited from their fathers? Is it not enough that there are now many kiai who accept the concept of Family Planning even though their father; certainly did not?34

'That Well Known Figure, Kiai Syukri' Another 'eccentric kiai' from Abdurrahman's Tempo essays of relevance to the theme of dinamisasi is Kiai Syukri Gazali, portrayed in an essay simply titled 'Tokoh Kyai Syukri' (That well Known Figure, Kiai Syukri).35 Kiai Syukri's particular gift, general broadness of mind aside, is, Abdurrahman argues, a highly developed ability at resolving conflict amongst the plurality of Islamic views: Finding the optimal meeting -point between two opposing views through pointing to differences of opinion between the ulama of old is one of Kiai Syukri's specialities.36 When asked his opinion on whether special readings of the chapter of the Qur'an entitled Al Fatihah brought any benefit to the soul of the deceased loved one for whom it is read (a point of heated debate between members of NU and Muhammadiyah), Abdurrahman reports, Kiai Syukri gave an answer of Solomonic wisdom : 'According to Imam Syafi'i the gift of reading the Fatihah for the dead does not achieve its destination. According to leaders of the other three mazhab it does. We are simply following the majority opinion.' Everyone was relieved. Those from Muhammadiyah felt secure in the knowledge that their opinion was in accordance with that of the founder of the most influential mazhab in Indonesia. Those from NU felt relieved because they could continue to send their 'anniversary (of death) gifts' in accordance with the teaching handed down to them from the kiai of old.37 A clever answer indeed, but there is more, Abdurrahman contends, to Kiai Syukri's thought than mere cleverness alone: The key to his attitude is the intensely strong desire to search out the best for people, but in accordance with humanitarian considerations. In the language of fiqh, this tendency is encapsulated as follows: 'Striving for good outcomes is important, but preventing destruction is even more important'. How many of us can search out this sort of wisdom when faced with the normative values of our own religions?38

'Firm but Flexible' Very much of the same ilk as Kiai Ali Krapyak is Kiai Wahab Sulung of Rembang. Writing in Tempo in 1980, in an article entitled 'Ketat Tetapi Longgar' but Flexible), Abdurrahman portrays a man who, like Kiai Ali, at one level appears rather 'hard' and old fashioned but at a more fundamental level is directed by a passionate humanitarianism.39 In both men the typical sternness expected of a kiai is leavened with a maverick, almost maniacal, streak. In the case of Kiai Wahab this streak manifests itself in behaviour that is distinctly non-santri in nature. Indeed one might even be tempted to describe his behaviour as being somewhat irreligious, or at least seriously at odds with religious conservatism, until it is remembered that in the sufi tradition (a tradition of considerable influence in Javanese Islam) such eccentric behaviour is often taken to be indicative of the very highest levels of spirituality. The prevalence of such beliefs must have been an important factor in vouchsafing Kiai Wahab's reputation as a religious leader, and indeed Abdurrahman alludes to Kiai Wahab's wellknown ability to heal the sick through prayer and alleged invulnerability to attack by weapons, in this context. Abdurrahman discards such alleged mystical powers as being the reason for Kiai Wahab's enduring good reputation in the face of his odd behaviour, and argues instead that it is his ability to 'toe the line' of religious consensus on important issues, whilst at the same time maintaining his own often unconventional line of thought, that keeps him within the bounds of respect. This tactic, Abdurrahman continues, is seen most clearly when Kiai Wahab is participating in a forum of ulama deciding on matters of jurisprudence--here his orthodoxy is beyond question. Similarly, on matters of non-negotiable religious dogma Kiai Wahab's acceptance of the line of consensus keeps him well clear of trouble. But this nominal orthodoxy is not the end of the story, rather it is merely the starting point: But the style described above does not limit Kiai Wahab Sulang to a totally legalistic or formalistic approach, without being able to develop a style that seeks to adapt to the needs of the day. And the really wonderful thing about this unique kiai lies in this very ability to find a religious foundation for adopting a flexible attitude to human need.40 Such sophistication in thought is hardly new or startling in a

cosmopolitan urban context, Abdurrahman argues, but in an area where secular education is still treated with a degree of suspicion, and Family Planning initiatives are still being opposed on religious grounds, such thinking is remarkable indeed: And it is precisely here that we find a principle of key importance in Kiai Wahab's approach, that is the ability to reformulate religious law through considering the human needs of society, and with this in mind, re-examine the totality of legal-formalistic conceptualisation. Isn't this the basic point of departure for the humanistic life view so praised by people today? But Kiai Wahab has something that all these humanistic and cosmopolitan people don't have, that is, the fact that the origin of his humanism is firmly based on his strong religious belief and the truth of God's word: whilst for us, humanism and religious belief are the very things that we so often seek to set up as being in opposition to each other.41 ************* 11 Ibid., p. 176. 12 Ibid., p. 178. 13 'Menjadikan Hukum Islam sebagai Penunjang Pembangunan', in Prisma, No.4, August 1975, pp. 53-62. This article was also translated into English and published as: 'Making Islamic Law Conducive to Development', Prisma, (Jakarta, 1975), pp. 87-94. 14 Ibid., pp. 55-6. 15 Ibid. 16 Ibid., pp. 57-8. 17 Ibid., pp. 59-60. 18 Ibid., p. 62. 19 The entry under dinamis (dinamisasi is not listed) in one of the main reference dictionaries simply reads: 'full of spirit and energy, being quick to respond and able to adjust itself to new situations and so forth' ('penuh semangat dan tenaga sehingga cepat bergerak dan mudah menyesuaikan diri dengan keadaan dan sebagainya'], (Kamus Besar

Bahasa Indonesia, Balai Pustaka, 3rd edition, (Jakarta, 1990), p. 206). Whilst dinamis translates readily as dynamic, it is rather more difficult to find an English equivalent for dinamisasi-dynamisation to coin a word, probably best conveys the meaning. 20 'Dinamisasi Dan Modernisasi Pesantren', in Wahid, Muslim di Tengah Pergumulan, pp. 49-61. This paper was first presented at the Latihan Kepaniteraan Dewan Pertimbangan Agung Republik Indonesia, in Jakarta on the 25 May 1981. 21 Ibid. p. 52 22 Ibid., pp. 54-5. 23 Ibid., p. 61. 24 Ibid. 25 Tempo, April 1980, p. 37. 26 'Balk Belum Tentu Bermanfaat', Tempo, 1 November 1980, p. 61. 27 Ibid. 28 Ibid. 29 Ibid. 30 Ibid. 31 'Kyai Razaq yang Terbakar', Tempo, 20 September 1980, p. 27. 32 Ibid.,p. 27. 33 'Kyai Ikhlas dan Ko-edukasi', Tempo, 19 July 1980,p. 33. 34 Ibid.,p. 33. 35 'Tokoh Kyai Syukri', Tempo, 1 November 1980, p. 64. 36 Ibid. 37 Ibid. 38 Ibid.

39 'Ketat Tetapi Longgar', Tempo, 27 September 1980, p. 33. 40 Ibid., p. 33. 41 Ibid. 'The Framework Behind the Development of Orthodox Islamic Doctrine' For Abdurrahman, Islam, both in its world view and in its central ideals, lays the foundation for a profoundly humanistic world view.42 This can be clearly seen in the following passage from a paper entitled 'Kerangka Pengembangan Doktrin Ahlussunnah Wal Jama'ah (Aswaja) (The Framework Behind the Development of Orthodox Islamic Doctrine).43 After outlining the historical development of Orthodox Islamic teaching Abdurrahman proceeds to set forth the 'The General Foundations of Orthodox Islamic Social Life' with discussion arranged around seven key points of view. In the fourth of these key areas, entitled 'The View of the Relationship Between the Individual and Society' Abdurrahman has the following to say: A view of the relationship between the individual and society. The exalted position of humankind in the scheme of life, demands that individual human beings be treated in a manner that befits the status of humanity. Individuals possess rights that can only be violated at the cost of trivialising their status as human beings. These basic rights, which in another context are referred to as Basic Human Rights, concern protection under the law, being treated in a just manner, the provision of basic needs, the provision d education, equal opportunity and freedom to express opinions, convictions and religious belief, together with the freedom to form unions and to work. In realising all of these rights, the individual must be able to grasp the limitations on the society in which they live to fulfil the needs of all its citizens. Because of that, each individual must submit to the basic principle of balancing their own needs with those of society. But this submission in no way means that society has a right to defer, or put off, the basic rights of the individual as put forth above, in fact this submission itself encapsulates what is meant by society's responsibility to uphold these basic rights, because such submission is one 6 the needs of the individual in respect to certainty in society, which also demands that society itself demonstratively protect the interests of citizens, as individuals, in society. A

balance between the two can only be achieved through the growth of individual creativity in order to simultaneously fulfil the life needs of the individual and fulfil the demands 6 the society that nurtures them. The growth of this creativity indicates that the individual has sufficient opportunities to participate in all aspects of society in an orderly and meaningful fashion.44 By any measure this is a reasonably complete and broad view of human rights, and one that convincingly balances the rights of individuals with their responsibility to society. It is even more apparent when this section is read in the context of the preceding sections such as 'The View of Humankind and the Place of Human Beings in the Scheme of Life' (in which the immeasurable worth of individual human beings is expounded from a Qur'anic point of view) and 'The View of Economics and the Structuring of Life' (in which it is stressed that economic growth and development is good but only if it is combined with equitable social policy). What makes these ideas especially interesting though, is the fact that they are expressed here, as being based unambiguously on theological convictions, specifically that human beings are created to be the pinnacle of God's creation. This supports Abdurrahman's claim that his humanitarian convictions have their origin in Islamic thought and are not merely superimposed onto it. 'Democracy Must be Fought For The conviction that Islamic intellectuals (or indeed intellectuals in general) should be very active in striving to change society is a theme that runs, explicitly or implicitly, through much of Abdurrahman's writing. Generally this theme is left unstated and implicit in Abdurrahman's writing but occasionally, as in the essay discussed in the above section, it is very explicit. This is also the case in 'Demokrasi Haruslah Diperjoangkan' (Democracy Must be Fought For), also published in Tempo, but this time in August 1978.45 In this very powerful essay Abdurrahman once again argues that intellectuals must be concerned with the sufferings of ordinary people, and be prepared to, as it were, 'get their hands dirty' in the struggle for social change: In our nation democracy is not yet firmly upheld; it is more of a cosmetic adornment than a fundamental attitude undergirding the structures of life. In this sort of atmosphere, elements in society that wish to preserve the current social

defectiveness are, of course, going to try and stem the democratic aspirations that exist in those circles that are aware of the need to work to build up the level of freedom in the nation. If sincere efforts are not made to build up true democracy in this nation, it is certain that these aspirations will be stemmed by those anti-democratic forces. Our nation is not the only place in the world were such a state of affairs prevails. This sort of situation, in fact, represents a basic characteristic in nearly all developing nations. Because of that, what is now in fact required of us is that we are willing to work together to strive for freedom and the perfecting of a living democracy in our nation. This struggle must begin with a willingness to build up a new morality in the life of our people, that is, a morality that feels involved in the suffering of the masses.46 Once again Abdurrahman rails against complacency: As with the matter of independence, democracy in the true sense, free from any predicating elements that can be placed upon it, will not come of its own accord. It must be achieved through sacrifice.47 'The Eccentric Kiai Stands Up for the Government' Finally, in this struggle to change society Abdurrahman sees a special place for ulama who strive to extend their thinking beyond the narrow bounds of traditional Islamic education, and who seek to become, in the best sense of the term, intellectuals. In another of his 'eccentric kiai' essays in Tempo titled 'Kyai Nyentrik Membela Pemerintah' (The Eccentric Kiai Stands Up for the Government), Abdurrahman provides what at first seems an unlikely example of such intellect in the person of Kiai Muchit.48 Kiai Muchit, a seemingly shy and unassuming man to those that do not know him, appears an unlikely candidate for Abdurrahman's appellation 'ulama-intelek', until his long history of standing up for justice, often at great personal cost in terms of popularity, is explained. But standing up for what is right, regardless of the cost, is precisely what defines a true intellectual, Abdurrahman cogently argues. Such intellectual kiai, or 'ulama-intelek', are, Abdurrahman suggests, of far greater importance to society than 'intelek-ulama', intellectuals who pass themselves off as ulama on the basis of displaying a modicum of religious learning:

Coming to terms with these cross-categories of 'intellectualist-ulama' . and 'ulamaist-intellectual' is certainly fascinating work. On one hand, the first type is very much fuelled by an intimacy with many layers of society, which develops because of the flexibility of approach it employs. The second kind is more driven by a flaming spirit to prove the truth of religion through argument and scholarly syllogisms, which, of course, often gives rise to polemical discussions with 'outsiders'. Looking at it another way, the 'intellectualist-ulama' type tend to stress, in the message that they bring, reform in the area of personal morality. Whilst the 'ulamaistintellectual' type are more happy dealing in some grand theme, such as the superiority of Islamic civilisation and the like.49 Abdurrahman's complaint is not with secular intellectuals per se but rather with the sort of superficiality in the sphere of religious thought that would confuse narrow apologetics with social ministry and religious symbolism with religious commitment. Once again Abdurrahman's central argument is that intellectuals, Islamic intellectuals especially, must be socially engaged in a profound sense. Conclusion A number of central themes thread themselves through Abdurrahman's work and to speak of these is to give a fair rendering of his chief concerns. Throughout Abdurrahman's writing from the 1970s we can see something of his affection for the pesantren world and learn what it is that he assessed to be its strengths. The strong sense of community to be found in a pesantren and the way in which a pesantren community can act as a sort of 'cultural broker' between its world and the community around it were clearly seen as major strengths both of the pesantren system and of traditional Islam. Another strength is the way in which pesantren teach their santri to develop self-reliance whilst at the same time learning to appreciate a materially modest lifestyle. Also clear, however, is Abdurrahman's conviction that, in the early 1970s, the entire pesantren tradition stood at the crossroads and was in grave danger of being steadily extinguished. This may have come about directly because of the process of modernisation, Abdurrahman argued, but it was as much the result of a general trend within the tradition as it was changed circumstances alone. Amongst the various problems besetting

pesantren were those that arose out of the over-reliance upon charismatic leaders and the attendant problem of determining succession when a kiai dies. Allied with this too are an all too narrow approach to long term planning and the failure to adapt adequately to the demands of a rapidly changing society. All of which contributed to pesantren in the 1970s being burdened with curricula that were woefully inadequate to meet the demands of modern society. Making this all the worse, Abdurrahman argued, was the fact that these various problems did not develop by chalice, but rather grew directly out of a world view that had not only failed to take into account the degree to which Indonesian society had changed in the past fifty years, but also saw all change in the most negative of terms. This view, in turn, was based upon a set of convictions relating to the total sufficiency of traditional Islam that constituted a dangerous self-delusion. Moreover this self-delusion was not confined just to traditionalists, modernists too had become so caught up, Abdurrahman argued, in the rhetoric of their own shallow apologetics that they failed to appreciate the degree to which Islamic society was in need of reform. A recurrent theme in Abdurrahman's writing is that progressive reform is essential. Moreover, he does not regard reform as being something that is required merely now and again, believing rather that it should be a continuous, ongoing process. So central to Abdurrahman's thought is this concept of continuous, ongoing reform that he coined a term to describe it: dinamisasi. Dinamisasi, for Abdurrahman, describes the essential progressive quality that enables Islam to be continuously updated and remain forever relevant. Without this, Islam becomes a dry and doctrinaire exercise in legalism that neither excites the interests of society nor serves its needs. When Islamic society was healthy and was enjoying the renewing of vigour that comes with dinamisasi, it would automatically become the sort of society that was more attractive to all citizens, Muslims and non-Muslims alike, for it would be a society that welcomed difference and rejoiced in its plural composition. At the heart of this view was Abdurrahman's conviction that Islam called on people to be tolerant of others and that one could not be a good Muslim without showing goodwill to all in society. Certainly Abdurrahman's own tolerance of others and general broad-mindedness are abundantly evident in his writing. Arising out of this pluralistic frame of mind came also a deep concern that Islamic political parties, and Islamic 'party politics', should not give rise to sectarian sentiment in society. Indeed the very notion of Islamic political

parties is something which makes him decidedly uneasy. Thus in his writing from this period we can see also something of Abdurrahman's deep commitment to liberal humanitarian concerns. His concern for equitable community development, for democratic reform and for the creation of a more tolerant society all arise out of his understanding of Islam. It is an understanding that leaves no room for mere standing on the side lines but rather demands social engagement. In summary, it can be said that almost all of Abdurrahman's writing from the 1970s is concerned with traditional Islam, whether centrally or peripherally, whether praising its simple virtues or pointing out its frustrating shortcomings. Almost invariably it deals, to a greater or lesser extent, with the creative, progressive response of Islamic thought to modernity, which Abdurrahman calls dinamisasi, and threaded through it all is an overarching concern with pluralism. But if these themes are prominent in Abdurrahman's writing, then the theme of liberal humanitarianism, is in fact the dominant theme. The determining factors that explain just why this should be the case are difficult to isolate. Environment, upbringing and a personality dominated by a certain kind of gregarious intelligence must all be determining factors, but in themselves they do not fully explain the passion in Abdurrahman's thought. Given this then, we could do worse than consider Abdurrahman's own explanation of why it is that he is so deeply committed to humanitarian ideals. Abdurrahman's explanation of what motivates, or at least directs, his liberal humanitarian concern is often repeated but at heart is profoundly simple. Abdurrahman is first and foremost a religious thinker: Islam provides the grand template of his thought and Islam, for him, is fundamentally liberal. ************* 42 The word 'humanitarianism' is being used here. as Abdurrahman himself uses it, to speak of an overarching appreciation for all that is good in humanity combined with a concern for the welfare of every individual. As such it has much in common with secular humanism but unlike secular humanism it is not at all at odds with a call for submission to God. On the contrary, and this is the central point of Abdurrahman's thought, reverent submission to God is the very best foundation for a humanitarian ideology. 43 'Kerangka Pengembangan Doktrin Ahlussunnah Wal Jama'ah (Aswaja)', in Wahid, Muslim di Tengah Pergumulan, pp. 38-45. As Abdurrahman explains in the paper itself, those who regard themselves to be Orthodox Muslims have, for centuries, collectively identified

themselves as being 'ahlussunnah wal jama'ah' (often abbreviated in Indonesia to 'aswaja'), this literally means 'The People of the Sunnah tie. the exemplary 'way' of life of the Prophet Muhammad) and the [majority) of the Community'. 44 Ibid., p. 43. 45 'Demokrasi Haruslah Diperjoangkan', in Tempo, 12 August 1978, p.22. 46 Ibid. 47 Ibid.

48 'Kyai Nyentrik Membela Pemerintah', Tempo, 5 April 1980, p. 37. 49 Ibid. Chapter Nine Democratisatian, Religious Tolerance and Pancasila: The Political Thought of Abdurrahman Wahid (1 Douglas E. Ramage

All that the West sees in Islam is radicalism and its incompatibility with modern, open, democratic politics. Indonesia, however, has the opportunity to show that politics based on confession--as it is in Algeria or Iran--is not the only way. Not only can modernity and open politics exist in a Muslim-majority society, as it can here in Indonesia, but it can also be nurtured so that democracy can flourish well in Islam. Abdurrahman Wahid 2 Abdurrahman Wahid has dominated Nahdlatul Ulama's leadership and Islamic discourse for the past decade. He is also one of Indonesia's leading advocates of democratisation and religious tolerance. This article will show that his political thought is based on a democratic, secular and nationalist vision of Indonesian politics. One of his core beliefs is that if Indonesia is to become a genuinely democratic civil society, then peoples'

political aspirations ought not be channelled through religion. To support his democratic and social goals Abdurrahman often invokes Indonesia's national ideology, Pancasila, rather than islam, to legitimise his participation in political discourse and for expressing key political ideas. Analysis of Abdurrahman's role in and thinking about three significant events between 1990 and 1992 will illustrate his conception of a democratic and politically secular society. Study of these three events will also show how and why he uses Pancasila to express his political ideas. The three key events are NU's 1392 anniversary rally in Jakarta (the Rapat Akbar), the establishment of the Association of Indonesian Muslim Intellectuals (ICMI), and Abdurrahman's leadership of Forum Demokrasi. Additionally, analysis of his political thinking will be given, based upon interview data from 1991-1994. Finally, this article will show how Abdurrahman distinguishes between his roles as, firstly, an Islamic leader and chairman of NU, and secondly, a secular democrat and chairman of Forum Demokrasi. In order to understand fully his political thought it is important to see Abdurrahman Wahid as representing a generation of revolutionary Islamic thinkers in Indonesia. Greg Barton argues that the thought of Abdurrahman, along with that of 'Djohan Effendi, Nurcholish Madjid, and the late Ahmad Wahib 3 is sufficiently coherent and complete to be called a school of thought in its own right'. Barton identifies these thinkers as 'neo-modernists' and argues that this school of Islamic thought has 'been instrumental in the creation of a new intellectual/political position in (Indonesian] Islamic thought'. One of the defining consequences of these neo-modernists is a 'commitment to pluralism and the core values of democracy'. Moreover, these pluralistic values have been 'woven into the very fabric of [Islamic] faith as...the core values of Islam itself. Barton concludes that because of these reasons Abdurrahman, and other neo-modernist Muslims are 'found in the vanguard of democratic reform'.4 Abdurrahman Wahid's interpretation of, and frequent reference to, Pancasila is tied to his role as a leading exponent of neo-modernist Islam and democratic pluralism. He has long argued that Muslims should embrace Pancasila.5 He conceives of Pancasila as being the precondition for democratisation and the healthy spiritual development of Islam in a national context. This is a position that contrasts with many of the 'modernists' who seek to 'Islamise' Indonesia. Abdurrahman considers Pancasila to be a living political compromise which allows all Indonesians to live together in a national, unitary, non-Islamic state. Yet he sees numerous

threats to his conception of Pancasila as a basis for civil democratic society both from within the Islamic community and from the armed forces. One way to understand Abdurrahman's political thinking and NU's role in contemporary politics is to see how he conceives his role in Indonesian society to be defined as much by his nationalism as by his faith. For Abdurrahman, Pancasila is a nationalist ideology essential for maintaining Indonesian unity. His view of Pancasila as the necessary nationalist basis of the state is important because some Muslims have viewed Pancasila as a secular ideology which is incompatible with Islam. Abdurrahman, however, frequently points out that his father Wahid Hasyim, an NU leader, also agreed, in 1945, to support a nationalist, non-Islamic state.6 NU was one of the first massbased organisations to recognise the legitimacy of the New Order. For Abdurrahman, NU is as firmly grounded in nationalist credentials as is the armed forces. He argues that there is no imperative in Islamic teaching for the establishment of an Islamic state. That is why, he says, his father and the NU leadership could easily accept a state not explicitly based on Islam. Abdurrahman says that indonesia is a state based on consensus and compromise, and that compromise is inherent in Pancasila. Other NU leaders have expressed a similar vision of Pancasila. For example, according to Buchori Masruri, head of NU for Central Java, the compromise established by Pancasila ensures a religious state, but not one based exclusively on Islam and is, 'fully in keeping with the Prophet Muhammad's natural tolerance of Jesus and other people of the Book'. Pancasila, Buchori concludes, is a political recipe for all Indonesians to live together in the state'.7 Abdurrahman frequently stresses NU's nationalist credentials by emphasising NU's loyalty to Pancasila. For example, in a major speech to the NU membership in 1992, he recalled that NU's acceptance of Pancasila made perfect sense for several reasons.8 He explained that in 1945 Sukarno sought the advice of the NU leadership, including his father who, he believes, helped Sukarno devise the five principles of Pancasila. Clearly Abdurrahman has a sentimental attachment to Pancasila based on father's role in its formulation.9 Furthermore, Abdurrahman argues that there is no contradiction between Islam and nationalism and that Islam can thrive spiritually in a nationalist state that is not formally based on Islam: NU adheres to a conception of nationalism that is in accordance with the Pancasila and the Constitution of 1945. NU has become the pioneer in ideological affairs. This is the

case even though throughout the entire Islamic world there is still a problem between nationalism and Islam. All the Saudi writers consider nationalism a form of secularism. They do not yet understand that nationalism such as in Indonesia is not secular, but rather respects the role c4. religion.10 This outlook, Abdurrahman adds, makes the Indonesian Armed Forces (ABRI) and non-Muslims sympathetic and appreciative of NU's inclusive stance. He argues that religious belief in Indonesia is respected by a religiously neutral political system and that Pancasila is the formulaic expression of a politically secular state that is, nevertheless, supportive of religion generally. As it happens, he does not have to look to Saudi Arabia for Islamic rejection of a nationalist perspective based on Pancasila. For example, Imaduddin Abdul Rahim, one of the founding members of ICMI, argues that nationalism cannot be the unifying basis of Indonesia. He contends that only Islam, the belief of '90% of the people', can serve as the moral basis for the state.11 Conversely, Abdurrahman states that 'without it--Pancasila--we will cease to be a state'.12 In order to understand fully Abdurrahman's political ideas and his use of Pancasila to promote democratisation, it is necessary to review the 'withdrawal' of NU from formal party politics in 1984. In particular, Abdurrahman's explanation in 1992 of why NU withdrew from the formal party system illustrates core elements in his conception of politics. In 1983 Nahdlatul Ulama became the first major islamic organisation to agree to the Soeharto government's asas tunggal(literally 'sole basis') stipulation that all organisations must accept Pancasila as their philosophical foundation.13 It is necessary to recall the extraordinary political and ideological contentiousness of this time. president Soeharto's attempt to monopolise Pancasila by insisting on the sole right to interpret and operationalise it through New Order political structures was best illustrated by government initiatives between 1973 and 1983. The 1973 emasculation of the competitive political party system reduced the number of parties to three, one of which was ostensibly 'Islamic' (the PPP) and included NU as a faction member. Soeharto's plans for the 'de-politicisation' of politics were directed at de-linking religion, and especially Islam, from party affiliation and behaviour. This constituted a genuine 'Pancasila Democracy' in the political thinking and planning of New Order strategists. However, the desire to prevent a return to political violence and contentiousness based on 'primordial' loyalties was a widely shared goal in the immediate post-Sukarno

era. Abdurrahman Wahid frequently states that he shares the New Order's goal of de-linking 'primordial' behaviour from politics.14 It was in the highly polarised political climate after the Tanjung Priok riots 15 that NU held its 27th National Congress in December 1984 in Situbondo in East Java.16 A year earlier at an NU conference the organisation had stated its intention to accept Pancasila based on the nationalist heritage of NU. NU's Islamic scholars concluded that there was no need for establishing an Islamic state and that Pancasila was compatible with the principles of Islam.17 At the 1984 Congress NU formally proclaimed Indonesia to be a state based on Pancasila and the Constitution of 1945 and that this is the 'final form of state' that will govern the Indonesian archipelago.18 The acceptance of Pancasila by NU was, as noted by former Minister of Religious Affairs, Munawir Sjadzali, a 'brilliant compromise'. This compromise was formulated by the late NU leader Kiai Achmad Siddiq, who along with Abdurrahman formed the duumvirate responsible for the transformation and revitalisation of NU. Achmad argued that NU could accept Pancasila as its asas tunggal because it was a 'philosophy created by human beings, whereas Islam was divine revelation'.19 The other significant decision in 1984 was to withdraw from active participation in politics. NU formulated this decision in a statement known as 'Kembali Ke Khittah 1926', or 'Return to the Charter of 1926'.20 Greg Barton traces NU's decision to leave formal politics to a recognition that 'party-political activity in the name of Islam was both counter-productive for the umat (community of believers), and, inasmuch as such activity gives rise to sectarianism, is unhealthy for society at large'. Moreover, Barton adds, By the mid-1970s Abdurrahman and his colleagues were expressing the conviction that the interests of the umat, and of broader society, would be better served by the umat turning away from party-political activity and embracing the non-sectarian state philosophy of Pancasila, fifteen years before it became popular, or even acceptable, to express such thought.21 The decision to withdraw from politics, according to Abdurrahman, was not only due to a desire to focus on social, educational and religious goals, but was also a response to the New Order's depoliticisation strategy. He argued that because of the unrelenting government proscription of Islamic politics and use of Pancasila to restrict the legitimate political behaviour of

parties in the 1970s and early 1980s, NU decided to 'leave politics'. If NU stayed in the formal, government-sanctioned political structure then it would be increasingly compromised and unable to protect its institutional interests or the interests of the umat. NU would also be unable to contribute to the national discourse on development and politics with a distinctive, democratic and independent voice. Abdurrahman argued that formal political institutions allowed by the government were set up to support the New Order's development program and simply served to proscribe independent political behaviour. Thus, departing party politics became a way to avoid government control and manipulation. An important part of the government's de-politicisation program was its attempts to monopolise Pancasila. Withdrawing from formal politics allowed NU to promote a more liberal approach towards the state ideology. Abdurrahman explained it in the following way: So the idea was that in order to resist the government's interpretation of Pancasila as the all-embodying, alldominating ideology, is by developing an alternative view of Pancasila. And that vision on Pancasila could only be developed outside politics.22 While Abdurrahman and NU emphasised Pancasila as the inclusive, non-sectarian state ideology, they rejected Soeharto's monopolisation of the interpretation and application of Pancasila. Moreover, Abdurrahman argues that NU as an Islamic force for democracy and religious tolerance could only be fostered outside the formal structure of New Order party politics.23 Abdurrahman argued that continued participation in the restrictive New Order political structure would render NU completely useless. In fact, he claimed that withdrawal from party-politics meant that NU's freedom of 'political' movement outside the formal structure of the New Order was significantly enhanced. The most obvious example of this strategy is his appropriation of Pancasila at NU's 1992 anniversary rally to call for religious tolerance and pluralism. The Rapat Akbar, 1 March 1992 On 1 March 1992 Nahdlatul Ulama commemorated its sixtysixth anniversary by holding a mass rally (Rapat Akbar) at the Senayan Sports Stadium in Jakarta. According to the Jakarta

press, between 150,000 and 200,000 people attended the rally.24 This was the largest non-governmental rally in twenty-five years.25 The ostensible purpose of the Rapat Akbar was to celebrate the organisation's anniversary by reiterating NU loyalty to Pancasila. Several things are curious in this. Why would the nation's largest Islamic organisation commemorate its anniversary by pledging loyalty to the state ideology? NU had already taken the decision at its 1983 national conference to accept Pancasila as its formal ideological basis. There are several reasons for this pledge of loyalty (ikrar) to Pancasila. Firstly, Abdurrahman was searching for a way to avoid endorsing President Soeharto for a fifth five-year term in office. He argued that because NU was no longer a 'political' organisation, supporting the President's renomination was Inappropriate. Secondly, he was deeply worried by the formation of the new government-sponsored Islamic organisation, ICMI, and was anxious to demonstrate that the umat still supported his leadership and the ideal of an inclusive, democratic Islam. He believed ICMI legitimised Islamic exclusivism and eroded social tolerance for non-Muslim Indonesians. He wished to show that NU supported a nascent democratisation process and would not be coopted by the government in the manner of Muslim intellectuals who had recently thrown their weight behind the government-backed ICMI. Thirdly, Abdurrahman perceived a rising tide of sectarianism and fundamentalism in Indonesia and was anxious to portray NU as representing a non-sectarian understanding of Islam. He perceived sectarianism to be threatening one of the most admirable aspects of New Order society: the severing of direct links between one's religion or ethnicity and how one participates in politics. Fourthly, there was an internal NU purpose to the Rapat Akbar. Abdurrahman sought to demonstrate that his control and support of NU could be demonstrated by a rally of up to two million NU members.26 Divisions within NU were heightened in 1991 after his formation of Forum Demokrasi, a group of intellectuals dedicated to democratising Indonesia. Some NU leaders were worried that Abdurrahman's activities on behalf of democratisation would damage NU by too closely associating it with democratic critics of the regime. Therefore, according to one observer, Abdurrahman was anxious to 'prove he was still in charge as the general chairman of NU' and that he intended the rally as a 'direct response to his critics inside the NU'.27 Two of these reasons--pressure to endorse Soeharto and ICMI--deserve detailed consideration.

Pressure to Endorse Soeharto and Support for Democracy From late 1991 to early 1992 there was considerable indirect pressure on NU to endorse Soeharto for another term in office. Other major Islamic organisations, including Muhammadiyah, had already done so. In having NU instead pledge loyalty to Pancasila and to the constitution Abdurrahman avoided being locked into a statement of public support for Soeharto. It was difficult for the government to prohibit a mass meeting which sought to uphold the ideological pillars of the regime. Thus, NU did not look like it was opposing Soeharto because it supported the pillars of the state. Yet the Rapat Akbar was also Abdurrahman's vehicle for criticizing the government for acting in an undemocratic and 'anti-Pancasila' fashion.28 Abdurrahman said that if NU were to succumb to pressure to endorse Soeharto, this would have two 'catastrophic' consequences. First, such a decision would 'create dissension within NU because it is a political act'. Furthermore, he pointed out that the NU membership was divided over perceptions of Soeharto. Some members argued that the President should not be supported because he was 'not Islamic enough', while others argued that Soeharto manipulated Islam. Abdurrahman stressed, 'NU is in a very good position as the anchor of politics in Indonesia; PPP, PDI, and Golkar all need us, the armed forces needs us; nearly everybody needs us because of our mass base, which we utilise very prudently'. Abdurrahman interpreted the holding of the Rapat Akbar and its refusal to use the rally to endorse Soeharto as evidence that NU is acting as an 'agent of change': *********** 1 This article is drawn, in part, from Douglas E. Ramage, Politics in Indonesia. Democracy, Islam and the Ideology in Tolerance, Routledge, London, 1995. I am very appreciative of the assistance provided by Greg Fealy and Greg Barton in the preparation of this article. 2 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 15 October 1992. 3 Djohan Effendi, a leading Islamic scholar, is Senior Researcher in the Department of Religious Affairs; Nurcholish Madjid is among the most prominent Indonesian Islamic scholars and heads a private Islamic Institute, Yayasan Paramadina. The late Ahmad Wahib was a young,broad-minded modernist thinker in the late 1960s. 4 Greg Barton, 'The Impact of Neo;-Modernism on Indonesian Islamic

Thought: the emergence of 'a new pluralism', in I>avid Bourchier and John Legge, eds. Democracy in Indonesia: 1950s and 1990s (Clayton, Victoria: Centre of Southeast Asian Studies, Monash University, 1994), pp.144-47. See also Abdurrahman Wahid, 'Islam, Politics, and Democracy in the 1950s and 1990s', in Bourchier and Legge (1994), pp. 151-155. 5 Barton (1994), p. 147. 6 See, for example, the statement by Wahid Hasyim in 1945 that only with the 'indissoluble unity of the nation' could the healthy position of Islam be guaranteed. Cited in Harry Benda, The Crescent and the Rising Sun. Indonesian Islam Under Japanese Occupation (The Hague: W. Van Hoeve Ltd., 1958) p. 189. 7 Achmad Buchori Masruri, interview, 29 October 1992. 8 Abdurrahman's remarks are reprinted as 'Langkah Strategis Menjadi Pertimbangan NU', Aula (NU Journal), July 1992, p. 26. 9 Abdurrahman has on a number of occassions spoken of his father's role in formulating Pancasila. It is not at all easy however, to verify this as no documentary evidence has, as yet, come to light. 10 Abdurrahman, 'Langkah Strategis', Aula, July 1992, p. 26. 11 Imaduddin Abdul Rahim, interview, 16 April 1993. 12 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 18 June 1992. 13 On NU's acceptance of Pancasila during the asas tunggal debates, see Sidney Jones, 'The Contraction and Expansion of the Umat. Indonesia, No. 38 (October 1984); Einar M. Sitompul, Nahdlatul Ulama dan Pancasila, (Jakarta: Pustaka Sinar Harapan, 1991); Arief Mudatsir, 'From Situbondo Towards a New NU-A First Note', Prisma, No. 35 (March 1985), pp. 167-177; and Abdurrahman Wahid, 'The Islamic Masses in the Life of State and Nation'. Prisma, No. 35 (March 1985), pp. 3-10. 14 Abdurrahman Wahid interviews, 15 October 1992, 3 May and 15 June 1994. 15 In October 1984 riots in the North Jakarta port neighborhood of Tanjung Priok exposed a strong Muslim fear that the government's Pancasila propagation efforts were designed to dilute the political appeal of Islam.

16 NU had been singled out by Soeharto in 1980 for being anti-Pancasila. On the 1983 declaration of support for Pancasila, see for example 'Mengapa NU Menerima Pancasila Sebagai Asas', Suara Karya, 3 January 1984. 17 NU's nationalist credentials and its stated position that an Islamic state was not necessary in Indonesia can be traced back to as early as 1935 (see Sitompul, 1991) and in an explicit statement by Achmad Siddiq in the Konstituante in 1957. See Abdurrahman's citation of Siddiq's speech in 'The 1992 Election: A Devastating Political Earthquake?' in Harold Crouch and Hal Hill, eds, Indonesia Assessment 1992 (Canberra: Australian National University, 1992), p.125. However, it is also true that some NU members of the Konstituante did argue for an Islamic state. 18 See, for example, Abdurrahman Wahid, 'Pancasila dan Kondisi Obyektif Kehidupan Beragama·, Kompas, 26 September 1985; 'Abdurrahman Wahid Tentang Pancasila dan Agama', Sinar Harapan, 15 March 1985; and Manggi Habir, 'Ulamas Change Course', Far Eastern Economic Review (hereafter referred to as FEER), 10 January 1985, pp. 36-39. 19 Munawir Sjadzali, interview, 12 April 1993 and Sidney Jones (1984), p.17. 20 See Sitompul (1991) and Mudatsir (1985) 21 Barton (1994), p. 147. 22 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 18 June 1992. See also the interview with Abdurrahman, We' Want to Reform Society', Asiaweek, 20 March 1992, p. 37. 23 Abdurrahman Wahid, 15 October 1992. 24 See 'Rapat Akbar NU Aman, Tertib, Lancar', Kompas, 2 March 1992 and 'Only 150,000 Come to NU Gathering', Jakarta Post, 2 March 1992. However, Abdurrahman Wahid argues that nearly 500,000 NU followers came to the stadium. Only those gathered directly in front of the main podium numbered approximately 150,000. Abdurrahman also says that the armed forces prevented many thousands more from coming to Jakarta for the rally. Interview, 17 September 1994. 25 Excellent coverage of the Rapat Akbar is found in many of Jakarta's dailies and national newsweeklies. See, for example, 'Gus Dur dan Massa di Parkir Timur', Tempo, 7 March 1992, pp. 23-26; and cover story in Editor, 'Warga NU Mana Kiblatmu', 7 March 1992, pp. 11-31. 26 On Abdurrahman's initial plan for up to two million people to attend

the Rapat Akbar, see his interview 'Saya Ini Makelar Akhirat', Matra, March 1992, p. 13. 27 Muhammad Ryaas Rasyid, Stare Formation, Party System and the Prospect for Democracy in Indonesia: The Case of Golkar. 1967-1993, Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Hawaii, 1994, p. 293. 28 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 18 June 1992. By refusing to endorse Soeharto openly, we withhold support to this unbalanced system of governing. By supporting Pancasila and the constitution we can say that NU is trying to smooth the transition from the current system which is based on cronyism, and the destruction of the country in the long run, and the robbing of our natural resources for the benefit of a few.29 Thus, NU's refusal to support Soeharto was seen as a sophisticated and safe way of encouraging political change. There was an additional, more urgent message in the Pancasila strategy of the Rapat Akbar. Abdurrahman believed that Pancasila represents an essential political compromise that Islam should not be the formal basis of the state. As a religiously and ethnically diverse nation, Pancasila is the ideological expression of tolerance and commitment to inclusive behaviour and politics. He contended that Pancasila and its stress on religious and ethnic tolerance is a necessary precondition to the development of a genuine democracy in Indonesia. He frequently argued that democracy will fail in an environment of religious strife and intolerance. ICMI and Abdurrahman's Perception of Religious Tolerance Abdurrahman was alarmed at what he perceived to be a trend towards 're-confessionalisation' of politics and a decline in religious tolerance. In this context, he has focused on the new Islamic organisation, ICMI, founded in December 1990, as representative of a major threat to his vision of a religiously pluralist Pancasila society. He has thus sought to contrast NU with ICMI. As chairman of NU Abdurrahman describes his 'job' as one of primarily looking after the well-being of the umat.30 He also criticises the government, however, for doing 'too much' for the Muslims.31 Detailed consideration of this apparent contradiction is essential to grasp Abdurrahman's conception of what kind of nation Indonesia should be. He has argued that Indonesia's

national unity is based on a living political comp remise--the Pancasila ideology--an agreement of the Muslims to live in a state which would never be based on formal recognition of Islam as objectively 'better' or more deserving of government support than other religions. Pancasila, he says, offers Indonesian Muslims, the best possible deal: they have the freedom to follow their religion by their own volition in a religious, though not a secular or Islamic state. Abdurrahman argues this is politically realistic in light of Indonesia's religious diversity. Moreover, according to Abdurrahman and NU scholars, it is fully consistent with Islamic religious doctrine which does not recognise an absolute imperative for the establishment of an Islamic state. Although Abdurrahman and others fundamentally agree with de-linking 'primordial' affiliations from day-to-day politics, they do not agree with the restrictive political structure established by the New Order and the long-standing depiction of Islam by the government as an enemy of Pancasila and the state. It is significant, therefore, that by the mid- to late 1980s, President Soeharto began actively courting Indonesian Muslims to enhance his Islamic credentials. This has been widely interpreted as an attempt by Soeharto to diversify his own power base in light of diminishing armed forces support for his Presidency. Evidence of Soeharto's efforts to cultivate Muslim allegiance is abundant. For example in 1990, he made the much publicised haj (pilgrimage) to Mecca for the first time. Many Muslims interpreted this as a sign of piety and natural step in one's lifeparticularly for an increasingly aged man such as Soeharto.32 There were also legislative and programmatic aspects to this reconciliation such as the 1989 religious education law and the 1990 law on religious courts' judicial authority.33 Finally, in December 1990 President Soeharto gave his consent to the establishment of a major new Islamic organisation: ICM1.34 This was an extraordinary event. The association grouped together government officials and leading Islamic intellectuals, including many who had been bitterly critical of Soeharto's New Order and its treatment of Islam in previous years. Noticeably absent from those who joined the new organisation was Abdurrahman Wahid. His fundamental disagreement with ICMI is that it represents manipulation of Islam to support the government. It also shows that Islamic activists are allowing themselves to be exploited by Soeharto in order to advance their own goal of Islamising government and society. For Abdurrahman, such a development constitutes an abandonment of Pancasila's guarantee of religious tolerance and national unity. ICMI supporters, however, contend that the new

organisation is the most appropriate and effective means for ensuring the well-being of the umat. Abdurrahman's apprehension regarding ICM1 is also based on fundamental disagreement over the meaning of an 'Islamic society'. A number of prominent intellectuals in ICMI advocate the establishment in Indonesia of an 'Islamic society' in which government policy, programs, and law are imbued with Islamic values. Abdurrahman argues that intellectuals who advocate such a society are, in reality, still seeking to establish an Islamic state in Indonesia.35 He outlines his opposition to this in the following way: I quarrel with Amien Rais [a political scientist and Muhammadiyah leader active in ICMI] who would like to establish an Islamic society. For me an Islamic society in Indonesia is treason against the constitution because it will make non-Muslims second class citizens. But an 'Indonesian society' where the Muslims are strong--and strong means functioning well--then I think that is good.36 ICMI is dangerous, according to Abdurrahman, because of the 'simple fact that their behaviour [members of ICMI], and the behaviour of Soeharto in using ICMI for his own non-Islamic goals, reconfessionalises politics. ICMI returns Islam and religion to the political arena after two decades of efforts to deconfessionalise politiCs'.37 He argues that the strategy of Islamic activists in ICMI, which is to 'take advantage of being used by Soeharto, will increase ABRI anxiety and reignite ABRI fears of Islamic fundamentalism'. ABRI, he repeatedly states, is deeply suspicious of lCMI and perceives it to be manipulated by Soeharto to strengthen his position vis-n-vis the armed forces.38 Abdurrahman worries that ICMI will give ABRI the excuse to clamp down' again on Islam. He adds that if ABRI persecutes Islamic activists for pursuing a political agenda incompatible with the inclusive, tolerant nature of Pancasila, then this heavyhanded response will encourage fundamentalism or 'sectarianism' to grow. He argues that 'if ABRI is relied upon to defend Pancasila against those who would seek an Islamic Indonesia then we end up using an undemocratic force [ABRI] in a counterproductive way'.39 Hence, ICMI's urging of greater Islamisation of government and society may have the unintended consequence of setting back democratisation efforts by giving the armed forces an excuse to further restrict all forms of independent political activity, Islamic or otherwise. Sectarianism and New Order Society

Abdurrahman refers to the de-linking of mass-based politics from religion as 'deconfessionalised' politics. It is similar to what the New Order has called the 'depoliticisation' or 'deideologisation' of politics. He seeks to avoid a return to a political system such as existed in the 1950s and early to mid1960s in which people channel their political aspirations through organisations which appeal solely on a 'confessional' basis. This system resulted in the communal and religiously-based violence of 1965-1966. Yet Abdurrahman argues that the deconfessionalisation of politics did not necessitate the current restrictive and authoritarian political structure which the New Order calls 'Pancasila Democracy'.40 One of Abdurrahman's aims for the Rapat Akbar was to show that NU exemplified an Indonesian Islam that was accepting of non-Muslims and Indonesians of Chinese descent by its adherence to Pancasila. By arguing strongly for Pancasila, he hoped to show that NU rejected the attempts of some Muslims to blame Indonesia's or the Islamic community's problems on non-Muslims. He had been deeply disturbed by the emergence of anti-Chinese and anti-Christian discourse since the Monitor affair in 1990.41 Some of the people responsible for provoking an anti-Christian dynamic in public discourse are now, Abdurrahman believes, prominent in ICMI. He fears that ICMI, as a government-sponsored organisation, legitimises intolerance, and Abdurrahman believes it is the 'duty' of NU to demonstrate an alternative, tolerant vision of Islam and society.42 Abdurrahman's Letter to Soeharto As it turned out, Abdurrahman Wahid was bitterly disappointed with the results of the Rapat Akbar. He complained, in a letter to Soeharto written on 2 March 1992, that the government obstructed the rally and therefore hindered his efforts to combat sectarianism and rising religious and racial intolerance. Most importantly, he predicted that if the government failed to support NU's goals of nurturing harmonious, open-minded religious national life, it would give succour to those who do not accept this vision of Indonesia. These people, he wrote, present a significant threat to the 'perpetuity of Pancasila and the Republic of Indonesia', and he predicted that Indonesia may become like Algeria; that is, a nation in which attempts to establish an Islamic state causes social unrest and threatens economic development.43 In private, Abdurrahman elaborated on the meaning of the Algerian analogy. He believed that some Muslims, particularly those now

associated with ICMI, support both the democratisation and demilitarisation of lndonesian national politics. This he claims is disingenuous. What such activists really seek is to manipulate Islam using an ostensibly democratic process to set up an Islamic state in which democracy would be demeaned and, indeed, shortlived.44 Abdurrahman's critique of ICMI boils down to what he sees as essentially, a 'Trojan Horse' theory: that is, many of the Islamic activists involved in ICMI have accepted Pancasila simply as a tactic to enter the government and Islamise politics from within. The ideal vehicle for the Islamisation of government is ICMI because it is a government-sponsored, bureaucratically-staffed entity. According to Abdurrahman, ICMI support for Soeharto will be rewarded with the appointment of Muslim advocates of an Islamic society to senior bureaucratic positions.45 However, the failure of many ICMI activists to be appointed to the cabinet announced on 17 March 1993 indicates shortcomings of the Trojan Horse scenario. Abdurrahman Wahid contends that in order to realise a state based on the five principles expressed in Pancasila, and for such values to have functional meaning in Indonesia, then Pancasila must not be used by the government solely to legitimise the current authoritarian system of politics. He argues that the root cause of the emergence of sectarian and Islamic politics is both the political system created by the New Order itself and the personal political imperatives of Soeharto. Although supportive of the idea of 'deconfessionalised ' politics, Abdurrahman argues that because the political system is so tightly controlled people are forced to rely on religion to participate in politics. Moreover, the regime must not manipulate the Islamic community in ways which, he believes, may repoliticise Islam in a divisive way. The creation of ICMI simply to bolster the short-term political fortunes of Soeharto is one such case. This is fundamentally different from the nature of debate about the meaning of Pancasila in earlier decades. Never before has an Islamic organisation or a nationalist Islamic leader with the stature of Abdurrahman Wahid so explicitly used Pancasila as the vehicle for a political message of religious tolerance. His advocacy of a religiously tolerant, politically democratic nation is given voice, in part, through his leadership of Forum Demokrasi. Forum Demokrasi Forum Demokrasi was established in March 1991 by a group of about forty-five prominent intellectuals.46 The organisation is

not incorporated as a formal association, but simply as a 'discussion' or 'working group' under the chairmanship of Abdurrahman Wahid. Although many well-known and respected intellectuals from various religious, academic, and political backgrounds are associated with the Forum, Abdurrahman tends to have a dominant voice, much as he does with NU. Marsillam Simanjuntak, a leading democracy activist, has said that it was a conscious decision of the Forum to choose Abdurrahman as chairman in order to bring a high profile and credibility to the association.47 An examination of' the reasons for the establishment of Forum Demokrasi will illustrate some of Abdurrahman's politically secular democratic ideas and objectives. The purposes of Forum Demokrasi are multiple and interconnected, according to Abdurrahman and its supporters. First, its establishment was provoked by a desire to combat religious and ethnic intolerance. The most troubling case for those associated with the Forum was the Monitor Affair in October 1990. The Monitor case, argued Abdurrahman, demonstrates that some groups in society are willing to manipulate religious issues in order to further their own interests.48 The establishment of ICMI in December 1990 also prompted the formation of Forum Demokrasi. Abdurrahman has repeatedly indicated that he believes ICMI is a prime example of political exploitation of religion which prioritises 'exclusive', narrow group interests over national concerns. By promoting the interests of Islam, ICMI promotes an undemocratic vision of Indonesia. In a published interview, Abdurrahman argued that ICMI will 'alienate non-Muslims' and nominal Muslims, and thereby 'aggravate the already strong divisions and misunderstandings in our society between different religious, ethnic and cultural groups, especially if Islam is seen to be trying to manipulate the government just for its own benefit'.49 He has been reluctant, however, to cast the Forum as a direct challenger to ICMI. Abdurrahman says that because of rising sectarianism in Indonesia, one of the Forum's aims is to encourage a 'return to the commitment to national unity'. For him, the Forum 'constitutes a vehicle for pushing a national integrative process through the elimination of sectarian-oriented groups'. He repeatedly emphasises that Forum Demokrasi is supportive of Pancasila so there is no way he can be accused of promoting values incompatible with the ideology or the constitution.50 In this respect, Abdurrahman combines both his desire to encourage democratisation with his goal of promoting a secular and

religiously tolerant democratic government. Although not mentioned when he announced the creation of the Forum, Abdurrahman has accused members of the Islamic movement, especially those associated with ICMI, of exaggerating the Monitor Affair in order to depict Islam as under siege from Christians. This approach. he said, allowed Muslim activists to justify their attempts to establish an Islamic society. He further argued that the behaviour of leading members of the Islamic community regarding the banning of Monitor reflects attitudes Incompatible with democracy and its attendant, inseparable freedoms, including the freedom of speech.51 He lamented what he saw as government complicity in the rise of sectarianism and the manipulation of racial and religious issues for short-term political gain. He declared his conviction, however, that 'Indonesia's silent majority is pluralistic in attitude and tolerant of diversity. It's the rigidity of government policy which leads to repression [of opinion] and it is repression which causes sectarianism'.52 He fears that the Chinese Indonesians may become targets of Muslims frustrated with the New Order's authoritarianism.53 ************ 29 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 18 June 1992. 30 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 3 May 1993. 31 Adam Schwarz, 'Charismatic Enigma', FEER, 12 November 1992. 32 Political scientist Mochtar Mas'oed at Gajah Mada University in Yogyakarta argued that the President's haj was widely perceived by Muslims (the 'masses') as proof of Soeharto's Islamic bonifides and devotion to the umar. Interview, 6 October 1992. 33 The courts law clarified and reaffirmed the independence of religious courts and their equality with civil courts. The education law stipulated that religious instruction was to be compulsory in all public schools. Abdurrahman objected to these laws, arguing there should be only 'one' law code for all Indonesian citizens. On the religious courts law see Himpunan Perundang-undangan dan Peraturan Peradilan Agama compiled by Abdul Gani Abdullah (Jakarta: PT Intermasa, 1991). For Abdurrahman's critique of these laws, see his 'Religious Beliefs: The Transmission and Development of Doctrine', Jakarta Post, 7 September 1991. 34 On the founding of ICMI, see for example, 'Presiden Soeharto: Tepat Waktu, Prakarsa Cendekiawan Muslim Bahas Pembangunan Abad XXI', Kompas, 7 December 1990; 'Cendekiawan Muslim: Melangkah dari

Malang', and 'Momentum ICMI dan Munculnya Habibie', Tempo, 9 1990.

December

35 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 18 June 1992 36 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 24 June 1992. 37 Abdurrahman Wahid, 15 October 1992. 38 Abdurrahman Wahid, interviews, 15 October 1992, 3 May 1993, and 15 June 1994. 39 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 18 June 1992. 40 Abdurrahman's support for the New Order's deconfessionalisation process is also evident in Abdurrahman, 'Islam, Politics and Democracy in the 1950s and 1990s', in Bourchier and Legge (1994). 41 The 'Monitor Affair' refers to the October 1990 publication of a readers' poll of most admired public figures in the popular tabloid, Monitor. The published results showed that President Soeharto in first place, while the Prophet Muhammad was eleventh. Much of the Muslim community was outraged and baffled as to how a newspaper could publish a poll that compared the Prophet to worldly figures. For many Muslims this was an illustration of extreme insensitivity towards Islam because the paper was part of the Catholic-owned Gramedia publishing group. Monitor's editor was eventually arrested and convicted of insulting Islam. He served a four-year prison sentence. However, Abdurrahman Wahid strongly argued that even if Muslims were offended by the poll, the democratic right to free speech and publication should not be infringed. On the Monitor Affair, see the offending article: 'Ini Dia: 50 Tokoh Yang Dikagumi Pembaca Kita', Monitor, IV, No.255, 15 October 1990; For in depth coverage see the cover stories in the weeklies Editor, IV, No. 7, 27 October 1990, Tempo, 27 October 1990, and Tempo, 3 November 1990. 42 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 3 May 1993. 43 Abdurrahman's letter, p.2. 44 Abdurrahman Wahid, interviews, 15 October 1992 and 3 May 1993. 45 Indeed, some members of ICMI such as Sri Bintang Pamungkas, a prominent member of the PPP in the DPR, freely admit this is part of ICMI's strategy. 46 The group was formed during a two-day meeting at Cibeureum, a mountain resort south of Jakarta, on 16-17 March 1991. The establishment of the group was announced publicly on 3 April at a Jakarta news conference held by Abdurrahman Wahid, Marsillam

Simanjuntak, and others. 47 Marsillam Simanjuntak, interview, 7 April 1993. 48 On the establishment of Forum Demokrasi and Abdurrahman's explanation of the significance of the Monitor case, see 'Di Tengah Masyarakat Muncul Kecenderungan Sikap Sektarian', Pelita, 4 April 1991. 49 See 'Kindling a Democratic Culture: Interview with Abdurrahman Wahid', Inside Indonesia, October 1991, p.5. Abdurrahman expressed this view on many occasions in interviews with the author, 18 and 24 EJune, 15 October 1992 and 3 May 1993. 50 See 'Forum Demokrasi Untuk Hilangkan Rasa Saling CurigaMencurigai', Suara Pembaruan, 4 April 1991 On Forum Democracy as supportive of Pancasila see also 'Intellectuals Establish Forum to Bolster Democracy in Indonesia', Jakarta Post, 4 April 1991. 51 Abdurrahman Wahid, interviews, 18 and 24 June 1992. See also his suggestion that the behaviour of some Muslims is undemocratic in Kompas, 14 October 1991. 52 Cited in Adam Schwarz, 'A Worrying Word', I;EER, 25 April 1991, p.23. 53 On Abdurrahman's concern regarding the growth of anti-Chinese attitudes in society, see his interview in Inside Indonesia, (October, 1991), p. 5. Adam Schwarz (FEER, 25 April 1991, p. 23) also reports that a reason for the establishment of Forum Demokrasi was to counter 'increased resentment' towards Chinese Indonesians. Government Reaction to Forum Demokrasi Immediately after the appearance of Forum Demokrasi. government ministers and senior ABRI officers issued highly critical statements. Admiral(ret.) Sudomo, Senior Coordinating Minister for Political and Security Affairs in 1991, and the ABRI spokesman. I3rig. General Nurhadi. questioned why there was a need for the Forum. Sudomo said that Indonesia is already a 'Pancasila Democracy and therefore has 170 need for a Forum Demokrasi. Both Sudomo and Nurhadi were disturbed by the establishment of the Forum which implied genuine democracy had not yet been achieved in Indonesia. This is a consistent ABRI complaint against advocates of democracy. For example,

in July 1994 the deputy head of social and political affairs for ABRI stated that critics of the government speak 'as if there is not democracy at all in Indonesia'.54 Nurhadi submits that a potential problem with the Forum is that it may contribute to the process of creating narrow groupings. Moreover, he expressed concern that Forum Demokrasi will try to change the views of the masses and therefore contravene the Floating Mass concept in which masses are to remain depoliticised.55 In response to ABRI and government suspicions, Abdurrahman underscored several points. First, he argued that Forum Demokrasi is not a mass-based organisation and nor will it become a political party. The Forum, he said, was not even a political pressure group', and promised that it would never be anything more than a refuge for 'contemplative and reflective thought'. Unlike ICMI, it would not be activist and take up specific political issues. Forum Demokrasi, which has limited itself to a general concern for democracy, would also be different from the Petition of Fifty which has taken up particular political issues and often been highly critical of President Soeharto.56 The government reaction to the Forum's establishment indicates an almost instantaneous suspicion that new organisations will disturb national stability and incite the masses. Military obsession with maintenance of stability qua stability is foremost in ABRI thinking. Moreover, ABRI officials are particularly wary of Abdurrahman because he combines charisma, intelligence, and a mass following in NU which the New Order has found difficult to control. Abdurrahman was careful to emphasise in his dialogue with government and military authorities following the announcement of the Forum's establishment that his role as head of the Forum was completely divorced from his role as head of NU. Therefore, he argued, there is no aim at mass mobilisation.57 The Challenge Posed by Forum Demokrasi The Forum, and Abdurrahman personally, came under increased government surveillance in 1992. There were two major reasons for heightened official concern over the Forum's activities. First, prior to general elections the government seeks to tighten its control over the political system. After all, as Try Sutrisno has explained, the general elections are not meant to produce change.58 Yet the Forum and Abdurrahman personally advocated precisely that--change. For the New Order, political change is automatically associated with chaos and instability. Second, whereas ICMI, according to Amien Rais, opted for a strategy that sought the continuance of President Soeharto's

rule, Forum Demokrasi implied that it wanted change.59 The Forum never, however, called upon the President not to be renominated. Yet the failure to endorse Soeharto was construed by the President's supporters as evidence of disloyalty. Lt. General Harsudiyono Hartas openly questioned Forum's intentions. Hartas claimed that Forum Demokrasi the in contravention of Pancasila. He argued that the statements issued by the Forum 'confused the public' and often contradicted fundamental tenets of the 1945 Constitution and Pancasila. The Forum's supporters, he said, acted as if 'they were still affiliated with the previous era and this can be seen from their statements on justice, human rights, and democracy'. Such language shows the government's view that the period of liberal democracy in the 1950s was incompatible with Pancasila and Indonesian culture. Hartas warned the Forum not to cause 'agitation' nor seek fundamental change.60 Abdurrahman responded to Hartas' suggestion that the Forum contradicts Pancasila and the constitution by challenging him to stipulate which article of the constitution or which principle of Pancasila had been contravened.61 Hartas' warnings to the Forum and Abdurrahman came shortly after two Forum meetings were banned by police, one in February and the other in April 1992. The April 20 meeting was intended by the Forum as a Halal bi Halal [traditional gathering to mark the end of the Islamic fasting month]. In addition to Forum members and supporters, other prominent national figures present at the gathering included the then chairman of the PDI, Soerjadi, and retired General Soemitro. No official reasons were given for the banning other than the Forum's failure to possess proper permits for such gatherings.62 A week later Abdurrahman was prevented from addressing a meeting of the PPP in Surabaya and the Coordinating Minister for Political and Security Affairs Sudomo reported that President Soeharto had asked him to 'monitor' Forum Demokrasi.63 It was difficult for authorities to portray Abdurrahman's and the Forum's activities as contrary to Pancasila. Abdurrahman rebutted such accusations by asserting that the Forum was, in fact, the most 'Pancasila-ist' of organisations and that democracy was an inherently Indonesian concept. Attempts to restrict its interpretation in a non-liberal fashion are not justified by any provisions of the constitution or Pancasila, he argued.64 Kompas editorialised that Abdurrahman's behaviour and Forum Demokrasi were indeed based on Pancasila and the constitution.65 Citing the government's contention that Pancasila should be considered an 'open ideology', the Kompas editorial saw it as entirely appropriate that non-governmental

groups such as the Forum sought to promote democratisation. Just as it was extremely difficult for the government to prohibit NU's Rapat Akbar in March 1992 because its purpose was to express loyalty to Pancasiia and the constitution, so too was it possible for Abdurrahman, Kompas, General Soemitro, and others to support the Forum's activities as genuinely 'Pancasilaist'. Abdurrahman and Forum Demokrasi were also accused of advocating 'liberal' ideas, such as the need for electoral choice through free and fair elections. Abdurrahman contended that such accusations ignored the original intent and meaning of Pancasila. It was, and remains, he said, a 'political compromise between democrats, supporters of a theocratic state, and nationalists', and allowed all Indonesians to 'come along together in a nationalist, unified state'. It was not Pancasila per se that guarantees democracy; it stipulates a tolerant society upon which a democratic polity can exist. Rather, it is the body of the constitution which is the democratic document which sets out that voting is permissible and allows for a measure of free speech and human rights.66 He argues that when Pancasila is used by the authorities to justify an undemocratic system or to attack Forum Demokrasi, then it is the regime 'who is cheating on Pancasila'.67 There was also intense pressure from the government on Abdurrahman to quit Forum Demokrasi. He was told by one of Soeharto's allies that his democratising activities put him in opposition to the President and thereby contravened a commitment he made to avoid conflict with Soeharto. According to Abdurrahman, he was told he could reduce the friction by either endorsing Soeharto for another term or leaving the Forum. He responded by declaring he would quit NU rather than agree to these terms. Abdurrahman stated that if forced to make a choice between the democratisation movement and the Islamic movement, 'my choice is clear, I will leave the Islamic movement'.68 NU, Forum Demokrasi and Abdurrahman's Secular Democratic Vision There is a distinction between the way Abdurrahman uses Pancasila as leader of NU compared to the way he uses it as leader of the nation's democratisation movement. The NU strategy envisioned by Abdurrahman is primarily one of 'deconfessionalisation' in order to prevent reoccurrence of disintegrative politics based on religion. It is also to ensure that Indonesian Islam is divorced from petty political manoeuvering that may damage the interests of the umat. Such manoeuvering

could create suspicions that Muslims are not fully committed to Pancasila and the state. The use of Pancasila in the Rapat Akbar illustrates this approach and attempts to establish NU as a Pancasila-ist organisation par excellence. The Forum strategy, on the other hand, places much more emphasis on promoting democracy but with a strong concern for a religiously tolerant society as a condition for democracy. In Abdurrahman's mind the relationship between a tolerant 'Indonesianised' Islam and a healthy democratic polity is inseparable. However, for political purposes, he cannot emphasise that he uses his mass base in NU as a force for democratic change, particularly when such change is automatically viewed by authorities as a threat to the existing Pancasila Democracy. In his capacity as leader of Forum Demokrasi and as a politically secular nationalist, Abdurrahman goes far beyond his NU message that Pancasila is a necessary precondition for both a democratic and religiously free society. He argues that the politically secular basis of society is established with adherence to Pancasila: If you reject primordialism and accept Pancasila, you must also eventually accept political liberalism. Because primordialism means inequality, that only people from certain origins will be equal. This mitigates against secular nationalism, including the philosophy of ABRI.69 Abdurrahman adds, however, that even though the logic of liberalism--treating citizens equally before law--is contained in Pancasila, adherence to the ideology's tolerance is not enough for democracy. 'lf you want to achieve political democracy you need more than Pancasila'. He elaborates that democratic secular nationalists seek three basic conditions that will allow the development of genuine democracy in Indonesia. First, there must be a separation of the state and civil domains. He argues this has not happened in the New Order because it has subscribed to an ABRI-derived vision of the organic totality of the state. Second, there must be a separation between civil society and government. According to Abdurrahman, this separation entails the autonomy of civil society and will necessitate basic freedoms of expression, association, and movement. Finally, he argues that a separation of powers within government is essential for creating a true democracy. There must be an internal government system of checks and balances. Abdurrahman asserts that New Order politics is characterised by a military-derived 'integralistic secularism'; that is, the New Order is politically

secular, but in an undemocratic way which fails to distinguish between either state or civil domains. Democratic secularism, however, requires separation of governmental powers and a clear distinction between state and civil society. For Abdurrahman and other secular nationalists, there is at least a shared agreement with ABRI that Indonesia should be a secular society. Abdurrahman contends that secularism is the first step towards a democratic society and that it could be established independent of--or at least prior to--genuine political democracy.70 Conclusion: 'A Very Narrow Path' The core of Abdurrahman's political dilemma is that he wants Islam, with NU as a prominent part of the Islamic movement, to be a force for peaceful change and transition towards a democratic, tolerant society. Yet he contends that the emergence of ICMI and manipulation of Islam for political purposes by Soeharto makes the journey towards this goal difficult. He summed up his dilemma in the following way: So it is clear that we have to handle this thing [ICMI] very carefully. On one side we should not allow Islam to be used in the wrong way by those fellow Muslims who would like to evolve an Islamic Society here. On the other hand, we have to avert the use of excessive force against them in an undemocratic way. This way its a very narrow path for us...because the military, in acting harshly in an undemocratic fashion to defend Pancasila, in essence, castrates Pancasila.71 Abdurrahman looks to a political future of greater democratisation, less military influence, and no Islamic fundamentalism. Yet he harbors deep fears that democratisation will provide Indonesians with the opportunity to 'choose Islam' which in turn may play into the hands of both Islamic radicals and the armed forces which rejects both democracy and Islamic politics. This is his Algeria analogy. According to Abdurrahman, the democratic option may be exercised only once--and then a fundamentally undemocratic state may emerge from a democratic process. In the interest of a 'deconfessionalised' state many Indonesians, and perhaps Abdurrahman as well, may opt for an ABRI-dominated non-democratic state that at least protects religious, ethnic, and regional minority rights in the interests of national unity. The alternative is a form of democratisation in which reconfessionalised political Islam may win at the ballot box. For NU and Abdurrahman Wahid,

Pancasila is first and foremost an ideology of deconfessionalisation', national unity, and religious tolerance. Abdurrahman contends, however, that by accepting Pancasila, Indonesians also accept the foundations of a secular democracy. Abdurrahman argues strongly that precisely because the armed forces embrace Pancasila's stipulation of respect for all citizens, regardless of religion or ethnicity, ABRI has also accepted the foundation of a liberal, democratic society. Even though the armed forces still reject liberal democracy, he believes that the 'logic of liberalism is already there in ABRI's stance on Pancasila'. Therefore, the chances for eventual democratisation are greater through eventual compromise between ABRI, NU and others who share the inclusive vision of Pancasila rather than through, in Abdurrahman's words, a process of 'democratisation through Islamisation'.72 In arguing against Islamic politics in Indonesia, Abdurrahman says: Deep in my heart I know that it is impossible for Indonesia to be governed by one side. My dream, my belief for a modem Indonesia is open politics--where political behaviour is ordinary and where it is not based exclusively on religion and race.73 Abdurrahman argues that if Indonesian Muslims are fully supportive of a secular political system in which all Indonesians are treated equally on the basis of 'their sameness of citizenship' then Indonesian Islam will eventually demonstrate to the world that modernity, open politics, and democracy can flourish well in a Muslim-majority society.74 ************* 54 Maj. General Hari Sabarno, cited in 'ABRI Officer Says Openness Indonesia's Dilemma', Jakarra Post, 8 July 1994.

Cause of

55 For Sudomo's comments, see 'Forum Demokrasi Aneh', Angkatan Bersenjata, 6 April 1991. The official position of ABRI was laid out in 'Nurhadi: Forum Demokrasi Bisa Jadi Politik Praktis: Maksud Gus Dur Dkk Sebaiknya Melalui Wadah Yang Sudah Ada', Pembaruan, 6 April 1991. Also note the concern that the Forum could influence the masses. This is a constant worry of ABRI leaders--that any new (or existing) social movement could exert influence over the masses and thereby agitate for political change. See for example the comments by Brig. Gen. Hendropriyono who warned both the Petition of Fifty and Forum Demokrasi not to stir up the masses, in Tempo, 10 April 1993, p.27.

56 See 'Forum Demokrasi Untuk Hilangkan Rasa Saling CurigaMencurigai', Suara Pembaruan, 4 April 1991. 57 For Abdurrahman's denial that Forum Demokrasi will become a group see his interview in Suara Karya, 9 April 1991.

political activist

58 General Try Sutrisno's comments are cited in 'Change of Leadership Sought', Jakarta Post, 11 April 1992. 59 ICMI never formally endorsed Soeharto for another term. However, its preference for his continuance in office is clearly reflected in the same person, different policy' strategy outlined by Amien Rais in his interview in Detik, 3 March 1993 and in the author's interviews with numerous ICMI activists. 60 For Hartas' firm warnings to the Forum, see 'Tidak Ada Larangan bagi Forum Demokrasi' Kompas, 25 April 1992. 61 For Abdurrahman's response, see 'Forum Demokrasi Siap Dialog Konsep Demokrasi Politik', Suara Karya, 27 April 1992. 62 'Police Criticised for Abruptly Banning Forum Gathering', Jakarta Post, 21 April 1992. 63 'Abdurrahman Darred from Speaking in Public', Jakarta Post, 27 April 1992; and 'Soeharto wants Sudomo to Monitor Forum Demokrasi', Jakarta Post, 30 April 1992. 64 Abdurrahman Wahid, interviews, 18 and 24 June 1992. See also 'Forum Demokrasi Slap Dialog Konsep Demokrasi Politik', Suara Karya, 27 April 1992. 65 See 'Tentu Saja, Demokrasi Kita Mengacu Kepada Undang-Undang Dasar 1945', Kompas, 29 April 1992. 66 Here Abdurrahman distinguishes between the Preamble to the Constitution of 1945 which contains the Pancasila principles and the constitution itself. 67 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 24 June 1992. 68 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 24 June 1992. 69 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 17 September 1994. 70 Abdurrahman laid out his concept of secular democratic society in 15 June 1994 and 17 September 1994, and in his

two interviews,

presentation 'Democracy, Religion and Human Rights in Southeast Asia', at the East-West Center, Honolulu, 16 September 1994. 71 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 18 June 1992. 72 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 17 September 1994. 73 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 15 October 1992. 74 Abdurrahman Wahid, interview, 15 October 1992 and 15 June 1993.

Chapter Ten The 1994 NU Congress and Aftermath: Abdurrahman Wahid, Suksesi and the Battle for Control of NU (1 Greg Fealy

The 29th Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) Congress held in early December 1994 in Cipasung, West Java, was one of the most controversial in the organisation's 69-year history. It was surrounded by allegations of vote-buying, procedural irregularities, slander, biased media reporting and external interference from NGO activists and sections of the government. It also saw the most serious challenge yet to the leadership of NU's outspoken chairman-general (ketua umum), Abdurrahman Wahid (popularly known by the sobriquet, 'Gus Dur'). Although re-elected by a narrow margin, the validity of his victory was disputed and the new NU board presented with continuing demands for an extraordinary congress to resolve the conflict within Indonesia's largest Islamic organisation. The depth of the controversy reflected a widespread perception that the next five years would be a critical period for the organisation and its role in national affairs. With an estimated 35 million members (i.e., almost 20 per cent of the population), the leadership and policies of NU have implications far beyond the organisation. Two related issues dominated the congress: the debate over the implementation of NU's khittah (charter), especially as it related to political activity; and the election of chairman-general of the Tanfidziah (Central Executive Board). Ten years earlier NU had 'restored' the khittah 1926-that is, the ideals of

religious and social activity set out by the organisation's founding fathers in 1926-as its guiding principles. A central element of the return to the khittah was that NU would no longer participate as an organisation in formal party politics and would instead concentrate upon educational, religious, social welfare and community development activities. As part of this process, it withdrew from the Islamic party, PPP (Partai Persatuan Pembangunan or United Development Party), with which it had been obliged to merge in 1973. Individual members were free to continue their involvement in practical politics but could not simultaneously hold office in both NU and a political party. There remained considerable dispute within NU, however, about the degree to which it and its leaders could participate in broader political issues or cooperate with the government and other political forces. The need to clarify NU's political role at the Cipasung congress was largely a response to the growing uncertainty over the presidential succession (or suksesi, as it is popularly known) and the future of the New Order regime. Soeharto has been president and the defining figure in the New Order since 1967. At 73, he was now in the twilight of his career. This prompted intense speculation and debate about how long he should remain as president, who would replace him, and the nature of the transition to a post-Soeharto political system. There was a widespread belief that the New Order, in its present form, would not survive his departure. Since the early 1990s there had been intense manoeuvring within Indonesian politics to secure control or influence over the presidential succession and transition to a new political system. NU, as with many other social and religious organisations, had come under extreme pressure from competing political forces to declare its position on the suksesi issue. Opinion on how best to respond fell into three broad categories: that NU should maintain strict political neutrality and refuse to take sides in the issue; that it should take a conservative approach by supporting Soeharto and the political status quo; or that it should pursue a reformist line, using its influence to create a more democratic and just society. The khittah and politics issue was inextricably linked to the election of the NU chairman. At the centre of that battle was Abdurrahman Wahid. Despite having long declared that he would step down at this congress, he announced in mid-November that he would stand for a third five-year term as chairman.2 His renomination polarised NU's membership, the government and a variety of other political interests into two broad forces: those supporting the incumbent chairman and those who opposed him.

The latter were collectively referred as Asal Bukan Gus Dur, loosely translatable as 'Anyone But Gus Dur'. This polarisation of attitudes towards Abdurrahman reflected the turbulent nature of his period as NU chairman. Abdurrahman's Chairmanship Abdurrahman first rose to prominence in NU in the early 1980s as one of the leaders of the reform movement known as the 'Situbondo group', which advocated a return to khittah 1926. Opposing this reform agenda was the so-called 'Cipete group' headed by the long-serving NU chairman, KH Idham Chalid. At the 1984 NU congress the Situbondo group, with the support of the government, swept into power. Abdurrahman was elected as chairman, a position for which he possessed an impeccable pedigree. His grandfather, Hasjim Asj'ari, was a co-founder of NU and his father, Wahid Hasjim, a former deputy chairman of the organisation and Minister of Religious Affairs. During his first two terms as NU chairman, Abdurrahman Wahid had seldom been far from controversy. He had repeatedly spoken out on such sensitive issues as political reform, social equality, human rights. and religious and racial tolerance. He had argued that Islam has no definite concept of, or prescription for the state, speculated that the Muslim salutation 'assalam alaikum' may one day be replaced with the Indonesian greeting 'selamat pagi', opposed the banning of Salmon Rushdie's The Satanic Verses and the Indonesian magazine Monitor for blaspheming the Prophet Muhammad, attended Christian church services and maintained close links to Christian and Chinese intellectuals and businessmen, and contended that Indonesia should allow for the possibility of a non-Muslim head of state. Unlike most Muslim leaders he refused to join the government-sponsored Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslimin Indonesia (Association for Indonesian Muslim Intellectuals) or ICMI, which he claimed had sectarian tendencies, and later became the founding chairman of Forum Demokrasi, a discussion group aimed at promoting democratisation in Indonesia. In mid-1994 he again made headlines for suggesting that large numbers of NU members who were disillusioned with PPP and the government party, Golkar, might support PDI (the Indonesian Democratic Party) at the next election. His most recent controversy came on the eve of the NU congress when he broke an unofficial ban on travel to Israel by accepting an invitation to Jerusalem to witness the signing of the Israel-Jordan peace treaty. It is actions such as these, combined with an uncompromising and often dismissive approach towards his opponents, which have so

divided opinion about his leadership. For his admirers, Abdurrahman Wahid was a brave and inspirational leader who had expanded the horizons of his Muslim constituency and strived to make Indonesia a more just society. They assert that under his leadership NU had become a more progressive and relevant force in the nation's development. Within NU support for his renomination came predominantly from Java-based branches, particularly those in East and Central Java. He also had an enthusiastic following among younger, more reform-minded NU activists. Outside the organisation, Abdurrahman Wahid had considerable backing from ABRI (the Indonesian Armed Forces) and especially army traditionalists such as General Edi Sudrajat. the Minister for Defence. Despite objecting to many of the NU chairman's views about liberalisation and human rights, ABRI regarded him as a valuable ally in the struggle against Soeharto's 're-Islamising' of Indonesian politics and the concomitant growth in power of ICMI and its chairman, the Minister fur Research and Technology, Dr B. J. Habibie. Suspicion of Islam as a political force remains strong in ABRI, a sentiment reinforced since the late 1980s by the President's cultivation of Muslim support as a means of counterbalancing the military's influence. In addition to army backing, Abdurrahman Wahid also drew support from amongst NGO circles and liberal intellectuals. Asal Bukan Gus Dur The Asal Bukan Gus Dur (ABG) forces comprised various components which were assembled behind three main challengers: Dr Fahmi D. Saifuddin, Chalid Mawardi, and Abu Hasan.3 Although there were substantial differences between the three, their criticism of Abdurrahman Wahid had several elements in common. Firstly, they asserted that his management of the organisation had been lax and autocratic. Examples commonly cited include a number of development schemes designed to help poorer NU members which had either failed or been severely curtailed,4 and the frequency of complaints from board members about not being consulted on important matters. Secondly, they argued that many of his concepts and actions confused his NU constituency and showed him to be out of touch with the concerns of ordinary Muslims. Finally, they claimed his persistent opposition to the government on a range of political issues not only breached the guidelines of the khittah but was also inimical to NU's interests. His oppositionist stance, it was argued, risked government retaliation such as interference in or restriction of the organisation's activities and the denial of

access to government positions and resources for NU members. Of the three challengers, Fahmi Saifuddin initially posed the most serious threat to Abdurrahrnan's re-election. Fahmi, an assistant to the Minister for Public Health and lecturer at the University of Indonesia, was widely respected both in NU leadership circles and the government. The son of former NU secretary-general and Minister of Religious Affairs, KH Saifuddin Zuhri, he and many of his supporters were previously members of the Situbondo group who had become disillusioned with Abdurrahman's leadership. They wanted a more professional and consultative management style within NU as well as a strictly neutral political stance. Such a course, they believed, would restore the integrity of NU's khittah programme. Doubts about Fahmi's ability to withstand the conflicting pressures of leadership counted against his candidacy as also did his low profile at the branch level. The other two challengers--Chalid Mawardi and Abu Hasan-also advocated more efficient administration of NU but varied from the Fahmi group in that they sought to bring NU much closer to the government, and particularly the pro-Soeharto forces. Both had campaigned for Golkar during the last election. Neither was learned in religious matters. Although not a prerequisite, every NU chairman since the mid-1930s had been a religious scholar. Both men had been members of the Cipete group and loyal friends of Idham Chalid. Chalid Mawardi was an ex-journalist, politician and ambassador to Syria. Like Fahmi, he was the son of an NU leader: his mother Mahmudah Mawardi was a long-serving parliamentarian and former chairwoman of NU's women's organisation, Muslimat NU. Chalid had been a staunch opponent of Abdurrahman's since the early 1980s and contested the chairmanship at the 1989 NU congress. In 1994, he made much of the early running in the press against Abdurrahman, but despite his ability to generate publicity, few regarded him as a strong contender.5 The 'dark horse' in the leadership stakes was Abu Hasan. A wealthy Jambi-born entrepreneur with business links to the government and President's family, his company, P. T. Sealand, has extensive interests in shipping, construction and trade. Although a relative newcomer to NU's leadership ranks his generous donations to a wide variety of NU causes have enabled him to establish a substantial patronage network within the organisation. Support for Abu was especially strong in Outer Island branches and NU's welfare division. Mabarrot, of which he was chairman.

The Government's Role The government's attitude to the four candidates was a source of some confusion. Initially it appeared as if the government would not oppose Abdurrahman Wahid's candidature. The State Secretary, Moerdiono, and several other trusted sources privately assured NU leaders that the president had no objections to Abdurrahman's re-election and would not interfere in the congress proceedings. Other sections of the government, however, began a concerted campaign against the incumbent chairman. Prior to departing for the congress, NU delegates were summoned to the offices of local government and military officials and instructed not to vote for Abdurrahman. Some Abdurrahman supporters were given inducements to change their allegiance; others were threatened with reprisals. Various media outlets closely connected to the government or the Soeharto family also took a pro-ABG stance. A key figure in this ABG campaign was the influential Kassospol (Head of ABRI's Social and Political Affairs section), Lt-Gen. Hartono. A devout Muslim, he was mistrusted by many of his ABRI colleagues because of his support for ICMI and Habibie, and his perceived willingness to serve the interests of the Soeharto family over those of the armed forces. Hartono strongly promoted the candidature of Fahmi Saifuddin.6 Other government figures opposing Abdurrahman Wahid included the Information Minister and Golkar chairman, Harmoko, who reportedly backed Chalid Mawardi and Abu Hasan, the Religious Affairs Minister, Tarmizi Taher, and Habibie. Soeharto's daughter, Siti Hardiyanti Rukmana (commonly referred to as 'Mbak Tutut'), was also widely believed to be supporting moves against the NU chairman.7 She was the most politically active of the president's children and was deputy chair of the Golkar board. The apparent lack of cohesion in the government's approach complicated matters for NU delegates, with many complaining of the conflicting messages they were receiving from various ministries and military officials. Some observers interpreted the government's behaviour as a sign of confusion and disharmony within the political elite. There are grounds for believing, however, that the government's 'disunity' was partly the result of a calculated 'double game' played by Soeharto in which he gave contradictory instructions to different ministers. Some ministers were told that Abdurrahman would not be opposed whereas others were ordered to orchestrate his downfall.8 It was a stratagem which allowed the president to appear impartial and

statesmanlike whilst striking at his foe. Soeharto's bid to remove Abdurrahman Wahid from the NU leadership forms part of a broader plan to secure his control over the 1998 presidential election. There were growing indications that he was preparing to renominate for a seventh term, health permitting, though failing this, he would seek to dictate the terms of succession. His determination to assert his authority was apparent in the recent crack-down on dissent and alternative sources of power. Examples of this included the banning of Tempo, Editor and De Tik in mid-1994, the promotion of Soeharto loyalists to strategic ABRI posts, the removal of outspoken members from Golkar and PPP, and the systematic destabilisation of the popular PDI leader and daughter of former President Sukarno, Megawati Sukarnoputri. Although Soeharto and Abdurrahman Wahid once enjoyed cordial relations, there were several reasons why the NU chairman was now regarded as a threat. His refusal both to endorse Soeharto's 1993 renomination and to desist from attacking the government had irritated the president. More recently Soeharto had been deeply angered by Abdurrahman's blunt personal criticism of him in Adam Schwarz's book, A Nation in Waiting. When asked by Schwarz why the president had failed to heed warnings over ICMI, Abdurrahman replied: 'Two reasons. Stupidity, and because Soeharto doesn't want to see anyone he doesn't control grow strong'.9 Another significant factor had been Abdurrahman's implied approval of closer NU ties to PDI. The possibility of an NU-PDI coalition alarmed government strategists. Their efforts to engineer a sweeping Golkar victory in the 1997 general election could be thwarted if only a small proportion of NU's estimated 35 million members shift their allegiance from the government party to a resurgent PDI. The Congress The five-day congress began on 1 December, and was held at the pesantren (Islamic school) of NU's interim president-general (rais am), KH Ilyas Ruhiat, at Cipasung, near the city of Tasikmalaya. There were some 3500 delegates and invited observers and guests with many thousands more attending unofficially. As is customary for such congresses, the pesantren grounds and surrounding streets were filled with stalls and hawkers selling a diverse array of food and merchandise (including religious books, clothing, paintings and carvings, toys and all manner of NU memorabilia). Cultural performances and mass religious ceremonies were staged in a nearby field.

The congress was formally opened by President Soeharto. The ceremony provided a clear indication of Soeharto's disapproval of Abdurrahman. Instead of greeting the president and other dignitaries upon their arrival, he was placed in the third row and excluded from the formal proceedings. Although later dismissed as a protocol mix-up, few doubted it was a deliberate snub.10 Soeharto was the first of many government officials to attend the congress. The armed forces commander, General Feisal Tanjung, and no less than ten ministers addressed plenary sessions. By the time the Vice-President, Try Sutrisno, formally closed the congress, almost half of the proceedings had been taken up with the speeches and question and answer sessions of government officials. Many delegates later complained that they were left with insufficient time to discuss the many organisational and religious issues facing NU.11 There was a serious and uneasy mood pervading much of the congress, a consequence of the intense pressure surrounding the chairmanship election. Delegates were subject to constant canvassing and questioning about their voting intentions, and allegations of impropriety grew as the election approached. Abu Hasan's lieutenants were accused of dispensing millions of rupiah in a brazen vote-buying campaign.12 His supporters in turn complained of harassment from Abdurrahman Wahid's more ************** 1 This is a revised and expanded version of an article entitled 'The Battle for Islam' which appeared in inside Indonesia, no. 42, March 1995, pp. 9-12. I would like to thank Abdurrahman Wahid and the NU board (FBNU) for inviting me to attend the congress, and also the many NU members who, by their explanations and comments, greatly assisted my understanding of events at Cipasung. I am especially grateful to Douglas Ramage who has generously shared his extensive knowledge of Indonesian politics with me in numerous discussions during and after the congress. 2 Abdurrahman's intention had been to move from the Tanfidziah to the Syuriah (Central Religious Council) from where he could exercise a supervisory role rather than his present managerial role. He had even proposed in October 1994 that the Tanfidziah be abolished in order to enhance the authority of the ulama-controlled Syuriah. When this was rejected by the NU board he decided to renominate as chairman. He told the press he had taken this decision in order to preserve the integrity of NU's non-political orientation. Forum Keadilan, 8 December 1994, p.13. 3 Other names mentioned in the media as possible candidates were KH Wahid Zaini and KH Mustofa Bisri. Most NU insiders, however,

believed that both kiai (religious scholars and teachers) would remain loyal to Abdurrahman and not challenge for the chairmanship. Kiai Mustofa was also known to be reluctant to leave his pesantren. 4 These unsuccessful projects included a pineapple canning enterprise in Purwokerto, West Java, a tapioca processing operation in Lampung, and a freshwater fishing development in Blitar, East Java. Perhaps the most hotly debated of NU's economic initiatives was the People's Credit Bank (Bank Perkreditan Rakyat or BPR) NUSumma, a joint venture between NU and the Summa bank. The BPR project was controversial because NU had yet to determine its attitude towards bank interest. Some NU members were also unhappy about Summa's involvement as it was owned by the Christian Chinese Soerjadjaja family. (This latter criticism abated following the collapse of the Summa bank in 1992. The Jawa Pos group replaced Summa as NU's BPR partner.) When launched in 1990, Abdurrahman claimed that there would be 2000 BPR NU-Summa branches serving NU members by the turn of the century. In 1994,however, there were only twelve branches operating, though they did return a profit of more than Rp 230 million. Given NU's lamentable history of mis-management of financial institutions, there would seem good reason for regarding the BPR venture as a modest success. Tempo, 9 June 1990; and Gatra, 26 November 1994, p. 23. 5 In the lead-up to the congress, Chalid Mawardi was the only challenger prepared to campaign publicly against Abdurrahman. When Garra magazine posed the question on its cover page, 'Who Dares to Oppose Gus Dur' (26 November 1994), Sinar magazine responded several days later with a cover photograph of Chalid and the headline: 'Here he is, Gus Dur's Opponent' (3 December 1994). In a hard-hitting interview with Sinar, Chalid accused Abdurrahman of inventing talk of an ABG conspiracy and questioned Abdurrahman's piety, saying: 'Gus Dur doesn't pray. The kiai are concerned about that. His religious tolerance is too high causing him to forget his own faith' (pp. 16- 17). See also Kompas, 21 November 1994; and Forum Keadilan, 8 December 1994. 6 See Kompas and Republika, 3 December 1994, for Hartono's statements praising Fahmi. 7 See Abdurrahman's frank interview in Asiaweek, 17 February 1995,

p.37.

8 Abdurrahman referred obliquely to this in his Asiaweek interview (ibid). He described the ministerial conflict over his re-election as analogous to a wayang (shadow puppet) performance in which 'The dalang [puppeteer] never works with just one hand' (p. 38). Although unstated, there can be little doubt that he was alluding to Soeharto. 9 Adam Schwarz, A Nation in Waiting: Indonesia in the 1990s, Alien & Unwin, Sydney, 1994, p. 188. Such criticism was extraordinary given the prevailing culture of obeisance to Soeharto. Abdurrahman also alleged that the president had instructed the Finance Ministry 'to place obstacles in the path of the NU-Summa banks' (p. 189).

10 KH Sahal Mahfudh, NU's wakil rais am (deputy president) was also excluded from the opening ceremony. The wakil rais am would normally read the final prayer of the ceremony, but on this occasion KH Usman Abidin, a staunch foe of Abdurrahman, was accorded the privilege. 11 According to the official agenda, some twenty hours of congress proceedings were taken up with ministerial speeches, though many exceeded their alloted time. By comparison sixteen hours were allowed for discussion of organisational and religious affairs (excluding the elections). See Buku Agenda dan Panduan Muktamar ke-29 Nahdlatul Ulama, Panitia Muktamar Ke-29 Nahdlatul Ulama, Jakarta, 1994, pp. 18- 19. 12 Reports of branches receiving or being promised 'donations' of several million rupiah to vote against Abdurrahman were commonplace. Some delegates also claimed to have been personally offered between Rp 100,000 and Rp 300,000 to support Abu Hasan. fanatical followers, some of whom, they claimed, were not even NU members but rather students and NGO activists.13 External interference was a particular source of apprehension and resentment. Some 1500 troops were deployed around Cipasung with more than one hundred intelligence and security officers stationed at the congress site. Some of these officers were posted full time to various provincial delegations to monitor and 'assist' with their deliberations. Coordinating operations was the head of the Internal Affairs Department's Political Section, Gendon Mulyono who had played a similar role at the PDI and PPP congresses.14 His involvement added to fears that the NU congress may experience the same disruption as befell PDI's Medan congress in 1993. Media coverage was another source of antagonism. The Abdurrahman Wahid camp, in particular, complained of biased reporting. One of the most notable examples was the ICMI newspaper, Republika, which misquoted the noted Japanese anthropologist Mitsuo Nakamura and a senior NU figure from East Java as urging Ahdurrahman's withdrawal when recordings revealed they had praised his leadership and spoken positively of his renomination.15 Its refusal to publish a correction or retraction until after congress had finished added to suspicions of an ICMI campaign to undermine the existing NU leadership. On several occasions groups of angry young Abdurrahman supporters confronted Republika journalists accusing them of printing lies and slander. The coverage by Gatra, Sinar, Pelita and RCTI (the television network owned by the president's son, Bambang Trihatmodjo) was also attacked as tendentious. The earnest mood of the congress was reflected in the

speeches of Abdurrahman, who as chairman was the only one of the candidates to address a plenary session. Normally a colourful and witty speaker, his two main speeches were notably subdued. Little reference was made to broader political or social issues, the focus instead being upon administrative and organisational matters. After so much criticism of his policies and managerial style, he seemed determined to demonstrate that he had neither neglected nor mishandled his responsibilities as chairman. By the time of the election, on the evening of the fourth day, only Abdurrahman Wahid and Abu Hasan remained as serious candidates for the chairmanship. Support for Chalid Mawardi had slumped 16 and Fahmi Saifuddin had withdrawn his nomination several hours beforehand and returned to Jakarta. Fahmi's decision came after a delegation of senior NU leaders and kiai expressed fears of a split in the organisation and appealed to him not to stand.17 With Fahmi's departure and Chalid's faltering campaign the ABG forces now threw their combined weight behind Abu Hasan. The contest for the position of rais am attracted less publicity but was also of considerable importance to the future direction of NU. The incumbent rais ant, Kiai Ilyas had been elected as a compromise candidate at the 1992 Munas (National Conference) in Lampung.18 A cautious and reserved ulama (religious scholar) he remained aloof from much of NU's internal politics. His performance as president was widely regarded as lacklustre but even-handed. Although his renomination attracted less than enthusiastic support, his good relations with the government and ability to work with the various factions within NU made him the front-runner. He also enjoyed the advantage of being host of the congress. His main rival was the wakil rais am (deputy president) KH Sahal Mahfudh, a younger ulama from Kajen, Central Java. His involvement in social development projects and educational reform have made him a popular figure amongst pro-khittah groups within NU. His candidature enjoyed strong backing from Abdurrahman as well as branches in Central and East Java. The election proceedings began with a dispute about the number of accredited votes. According to the calculations of the congress committee there should have been 280 vote-casting delegates. An additional 36 delegates, however, claimed that they too were eligible to vote but had been excluded due to administrative problems. A subsequent motion to accord these delegates voting rights was passed by acclamation. The validity of these extra 36 votes would later be disputed by Abu Hasan. There were three leadership positions to be decided: rais am, wakil rais am and chairman. The ballot for each would be in two

stages, nomination then election. Only candidates receiving forty or more nominating votes would be eligible for election. The newly elected rais am and wakil rais am also held the right to veto any candidate for chairman. In the first ballot Kiai Ilyas Ruhiat gained 205 votes to Kiai Sahal Mahfudh 101.19 Kiai Sahal then withdrew his nomination and offered himself as wakil rais am. A motion that the two be declared elected without further ballot was passed on the voices. The cancellation of the election for deputy president angered Abu Hasan's supporters who had intended to nominate KH Syukron Makmun for the position. If successful, Kiai Syukron planned to veto Abdurrahman's candidature.20 The nomination stage of the chairmanship election proved far closer than most observers had anticipated, with Abdurrahman Wahid receiving 157 votes, Abu Hasan 136, Fahmi Saifuddin 17, and Chalid Mawardi six. This brought Abu Hasan within striking distance of Abdurrahman. With Chalid's six votes almost certainly going to Abu the chairmanship would be decided by the 17 delegates who had cast their votes for Fahmi. The possibility of defeat shocked many in Abdurrahman Wahid's camp. They had estimated their support to be about 65 per cent of the vote but instead received just under 50 per cent. Some muttered bitterly about the tactics of their rivals and contemplated the likely consequences of an Abu Hasan victory. Several kiai who were close to the NU chairman fought back tears and quietly prayed. During the ensuing election ballot each vote for Abdurrahman Wahid brought cheers of approval from his tense supporters; votes for Abu were met with silence. When the count concluded at 3 a.m., Abdurrahman Wahid had gained 174 votes or fiftyfive per cent to Abu's 142. The high-spirited celebrations which continued till dawn prayers reflected the relief within the Abdurrahman camp. Abdurrahman would later describe his re-election as a 'victory over money, slander and intimidation'. Whilst this was true in part, there are a number of other factors which also contributed to Abu Hasan's strong showing. His support amongst NU's Outer Island delegates was critical. These delegates have a disproportionately large share of congress votes due to the fact that two-thirds of NU branches are outside Java, even though they represent only forty per cent of the organisation's total membership.21 These branches have traditionally resented Javanese domination of NU, a fact exacerbated in recent years by the scarcity of Outer Islanders among Abdurrahman Wahid's leadership group and the infrequency of his visits to areas outside Java. Outer Island branches also have a far higher percentage of

civil servants within their leadership than branches on Java and are hence more susceptible to government influence. Abu's plans for a more pro-government, economically-orientated leadership also succeeded in attracting support from NU businessmen and younger, career-minded members. Finally, he won backing from the sizeable group of older Javanese leaders who had fallen out with Abdurrahman Wahid. These included Abdurrahman's uncles, Jusuf Hasjim and KH Shohib Bisri, and former allies, KH Attabik Ali and KH Imron Hamzah. Aftermath The close of the congress did not bring an end to the battle between Abdurrahman Wahid and his opponents. A five-member committee comprising Ilyas Ruhiaf Sahal Mahfudh, an Abu Hasan representative, and Abdurrahman and one of his supporters was appointed by the congress to determine the composition of the new NU board. Abu argued that he and his supporters were entitled to 45 per cent of the positions on the board based on the percentage of the vote they received in the election. He also demanded the position of deputy chairman for himself.22 Abdurrahman flatly refused these demands contending that Abu and his supporters would merely use their positions to destabilise NU in the same way that hostile appointees to the PDI board had created havoc for Megawati's leadership. He furthermore reportedly alleged that Abu was unfit to hold office in NU as he had received a secret Rp36 billion (US$18 million) commission for a development project at the Tanjunp Priok port.23 When the new NU board was announced in midDecember most of Abdurrahman's opponents had been removed or shifted to relatively powerless positions.24 Abu Hasan's response was to form, in late December, a rival NU board known as KPPNU (Koordinasi Pengurus Pusat NU or NU Central Coordinating Executive), which he claimed had support from 22 of NU's 2G provincial boards.25 Abu's primary objective was to Force an extraordinary NU congress (muktamar luar biasa or MLB) at which new elections could be held. The KPPNU contained many prominent figures from the Cipete group, including Idham Chalid, KH Ali Yafie and Syukron Makmun.26 Its credibility was soon tarnished, however, when at least nine of its putative members announced that they had not been consulted about joining the board and were unwilling to participate. Some of the statements of regional support were also shown not to have local board approval.27 Little was heard of KPPNU for the remainder of 1995. Abu also launched defamation proceedings against Abdurrahman in January over his

allegations regarding the Tanjung Priok commission.28 Abu's actions in establishing a rival board and suing the NU chairman are without precedent in the organisation's history. For much of 1995 the focus of the anti-Abdurrahman campaign shifted to a group of senior East Java kiai led by Jusuf Hasjim and Shohib Bisri. Jusuf was especially prominent. From late January he began a series of 'safaris' to NU branches in Java and Sumatra, and also blitzed the media with interviews highly critical of his nephew.29 Shohib used his position as chairman of a major pesantren association to marshal support for an extraordinary congress.30 In addition to this, Jusuf and Shohib established the Forum Putra-Putri Pendiri NU (Forum for the Sons and Daughters of NU Founders) or FPPPNU in September 1995 as a vehicle for anti-Abdurrahman activity as well as to enhance their own claims as heirs to the NU leadership.31 In mobilising support for an extraordinary congress, these kiai had two potent weapons. The first was Abdurrahman's continuing disfavour with the president. Following the congress, Soeharto refused to grant an audience to the new NU board because of Abdurrahman's remarks in A Nation in Waiting.32 Such meetings are customary following the congresses of major organisations and signify presidential sanction of the newlyelected leaders. The anti-Abdurrahman forces claimed that NU was being punished for its chairman's rashness and asserted that relations with the government would not improve until Abdurrahman had been removed. The second factor was the generous patronage from ABG elements within the government and military. Hartono, who had been promoted to army chiefof-staff in early 1995, visited pesantren regularly, dispensing financial and material support to key Abdurrahman opponents. Feisal Tanjung, Habibie and Siti Hardiyanti have also recently channelled funds and resources to the anti-Abdurrahman forces.33 The availability of such patronage served as a powerful inducement to kiai who might previously have been reluctant to oppose openly the NU chairman. Despite their resources, Abdurrahman's opponents faced a difficult task in achieving an MLB. Such a congress can only be convened with the support of a two-thirds majority of NU branches and the approval of the Syuriah. Throughout 1995 Kiai Ilyas and the Syuriah had firmly rejected proposals for an MLB. There also appeared to be far less than the required 200-odd branches in favour of an extraordinary congress. The antiAbdurrahman forces had also to contend with a strong backlash from supporters of the NU board. Jusuf Hasjim and Shohib Bisri were condemned for using unfair and divisive tactics, rival meetings were organised to coincide with pro-MLB meetings,

and there were unsuccessful attempts in late 1995 to expel Jusuf from the organisation.34 Conclusion The events of 1994-95 have left Nahdlatul Ulama more polarised than at any time since the early 1980s, with considerable energy and resources being expended in waging this internal battle for control of the organisation. The new NU board, though more cohesive than its two predecessors, has been hampered by the reluctance of branches opposed to Abdurrahman Wahid to acknowledge its authority and cooperate in implementing programmes. The struggle between pro- and anti-Abdurrahman groups has also spread to the organisation's divisions and affiliated bodies such as the young men's wing, Ansor, the education institute, Ma'arif, the student's association, IPNU, and Muslimat NU. The depth of this dispute reflects not only the bitter political and personal disputes within NU but also an unprecedented level of government interference. Although a shrewd and wellorganised candidate, Abu Hasan would not have come so close to victory at the congress without the government's offensive against Abdurrahman. Similarly, the Jusuf Hasjim-Shohib Bisri campaign for an extraordinary congress benefited greatly from government and military assistance. In encouraging these opponents of Abdurrahman, the government has made clear its determination to remove the NU chairman or at the very least intimidate him into assuming a less critical stance. By re-electing Abdurrahman Wahid and continuing to support his chairmanship, NU has again demonstrated a sense of independence rare for a major social organisation in Soeharto's Indonesia. Such independence runs against a recent strong tide of Muslim cooptation by the government, of which ICMI is a prime example. The critical question for NU is how will it respond to the approaching period of political uncertainty. In previous crises in Indonesian politics, such as the transition to Guided Democracy (1957-60) and the emergence and consolidation of the New Order (1965-71), NU has had within its ranks both conservative elements willing to accommodate and support the political status quo and reformist elements intent upon promoting a more liberal and democratic vision of Indonesian society. At the present time, the forces of reform appear ascendant. The extent to which they will be able to pursue their agenda depends on the preparedness of the organisation as a whole to confront risk and uncertainty.

************** 13 Many older kiai bemoaned what they saw as the declining standard of behaviour amongst younger congress participants. They noted the large number of 'long-haired, unruly youths' who were given to 'emotional outbursts' such as cheering and yelling. They contrasted such behaviour with the traditional pesantren values of humility, respectfulness and calm self-discipline. 14 Forum Keadilan, 22 December 1994, p. 105. 15 Republika, 2 December 1994. 16 There were various reasons for Chalid's declining fortunes. As the archetypal NU career politician, he was an unattractive candidate to those opposed to a more directly political role for the organisation. Many delegates also queried his steadfastness. His sudden shift to Golkar prior to the 1992 election campaign alienated many PPP supporters within NU and his decision not to oppose Saturday public holidays during the MPR (People's Deliberative Council) debates had also drawn criticism from ulama. (See Forum Keadilan, 8 December 1994, p. 15). Lastly, he was accused of smear tactics for publicly asserting that Abdurrahman neglected to pray regularly. A measure of his unpopularity came on the second day of the congress. When introduced to the plenary session he was greeted with loud booing-a highly unusual occurrence at an NU gathering. 17 The delegation included Abdurrahman Wahid, KH Sahal Mahfudh and KH Moenasir, the chairman of the congress organising committee. Fahmi's bitterness at the events surrounding his withdrawal was apparent from his subsequent letter of resignation from the NU board. He likened the atmosphere at Cipasung to that of a political party conference and expressed distaste at the extent of outside interference in the congress. More pointedly, he noted that he had little choice but to accede to the advice of senior kiai that he withdraw. Kompas, 15 December 1994; and Forum Keadilan, 5 January 1995, p.ll and p.14. 18 Kiai Ilyas's nomination at the Lampung Munas emerged only after the Syuriah had become deadlocked over whether KH Jusuf Hasjim or KH Sahal Mahfudh should be installed as interim rais am. As a respected senior ulama with a reputation for political neutrality, he was seen as a rais am who could ease the tensions within NU after a particularly divisive preceding twelve months. 19 The other two nominees for rais am, KH Abdullah Abbas and Idham Chalid, received a mere seven votes. 20 Forum Keadilan, 5 January 1995, p. 11.

21 Abdurrahman later claimed that about 80% of the 101 branches in Java voted for him whereas he had the support of only 42% of the 215 Outer Island branches. Tiras, 29 June 1995. 22 Abu cited, with some justification, the NU tradition of appointing as deputy chairman the candidate who obtained the second largest number of votes. 23 The report of Abdurrahman's allegations came from Abu Hasan's representative on the committee, Tengku Abdul Aziz. Abdurrahman refused to confirm or deny the report. Forum Keadilan, 5 January 1995, p. 11; and Gatra, 7 January 1995, p. 25, and 28 January 1995, p. 70. 24 A full list of the new NU board's membership is given in Kompas, 14December 1994. Abdurrahman succeeded in having several of his most trusted lieutenants appointed to key positions on the board. These included Rozy Munir and Mustofa Zuhad as deputy chairmen and Achmad Bagdja and Arifin Junaidi as secretary-general and deputy secretary-general respectively. Several of those named in the new board refused to take up their appointments. Among them were Fahmi Saifuddin (who had been appointed first deputy chairman), Jusuf Hasjim, Usman Abidin and Syukron Makmun. Gatra, 18 February 1995, p. 37. 25 Kompas, 31 December 1994; and Forum Keadilan, 5 January 1995, p.10. 26 Other prominent names listed in the KPPNU membership included the popular preacher, Zainuddin M. Z., Jusuf Hasjim, KH Abdullah Abbas, KI-I Anwar Musaddad, KH Nur Muhammad Iskandar, KH Maimun Zuber, Asmawi Manaf and KH Usman Abidin. For a complete membership list, see Kompas, 28 December 1994. Interestingly, Chalid Mawardi was not included. Several weeks after the congress he was installed as general chairman of Golkar's Islamic Missionary Council (Majlis Dakwah Islamiyah). Gatra, 21 January 1995, pp. 36-37. 27 Among those to later declare that they would not serve on the new board were Jusuf Hasjim, Anwar Musaddad, Nur Muhammad Iskandar, Zainuddin M. Z. and KH Abdullah Abbas. See Kompas, 29 and 31 December 1994; Gatra, 7 January 1995, p. 22; and Forum Keadilan, 19 January 1995, p. 17. 28 Forum Keadilan, 5 January 1995, p. 11, and 8 June 1995, pp. 24-5; Gatra, 7 January 1995, p. 25, and 21 January 1995, p. 36; and Tiras, 9February 1995, p. 65. Initially, Abu also threatened to sue the congress organising committee for accepting the additional 36 votes abandoned this action.

but he later

29 See Forum Keadilan, 19 January 1995, pp. 93-7; Gatra, 21 January 1995, pp. 33-4, and 28 January 1995, p. 72. 30 Shohib was chairman of the Forum Komunikasi Pengasuh Pondok Pesantren (Pesantren Leaders' Communication Forum). 31 Forum Keadilan, 25 September 1995, p. 22 and 20 November 1995, p.22. The other leading member of the FPPPNU was Hasib Wahab, the previously low-profile son of NU's second rais am, KH Wahab Chasbullah. 32 The President had, on several occasions since the NU congress, met Ilyas Ruhiat, Sahal Mahfudh and other senior NU leaders, thereby leaving little doubt that his objection was to Abdurrahman, rather than the NU board. 33 For example, KH Badri Masduki, an outspoken critic of Abdurrahman, was reported to have received Rp70 million from Hartono, Feisal Tanjung arranged funding for Jusuf Hasjim's safaris, and Siti Hardiyanti also made Rp 5 billion available for distribution to selected pesantren through the Forum Komunikasi Pengasuh Pondok Pesantren. Tiras, 9 February 1995, pp 65-6; Media Indonesia Minggu, 23 September 1995; and Forum Keadilan, 25 September 1995, p. 22. 34 Tiras, 9 February 1995, p. 95; and Kompas, 6 and 14 November 1995. Selected Bibliography Abdurrahman Wahid, 1979, Bunga Rampai Pesantren, Dharma Bhakti, Jakarta. -- 1981, Muslim di Tengah Pergumulan Leppenas, Jakarta. -- 1984, 'Nahdlatul Ulama dan Islam di Indonesia Dewasa Ini'. Prisma, no.4, pp.31-8 (English translation in Taufik Abdullah and Sharon Shiddique (eds), Islam and Society in Southeast Asia, ISEAS, Singapore, 1986, pp.175-86). -- 1984b, 'Massa Islam dalam Kehidupan Bernegara dan Berbangsa', Prisma, no.13, pp.3-9 (English translation in Prisma--the Indonesian Indicator, no.35, 1985, pp.3-10). -- 1989, Kiai Bisri Syansuri. Pecinta Fiqh Sepanjang Hayat, Majalah Amanah, Jakarta. -- 1994, 'Islam, Politics and Democracy in the 1950s and 1990s', in D. Bourchier and J. Legge (eds), Democracy in Indonesia, 1950s and 1990s, Centre of Southeast Asian Studies, Monash University, Clayton, pp.151-55. Aboebakar (Atjeh), (ed.), 1957, Sedjarah Hidup K. H. A. Wahid Hasjim dan Karangan Tersiar, Panitya Buku Peringatan Alm, K.H.A. Wahid Hasjim, Jakarta.

Adnan, Abdul Basit, 1982, Kemelut di NU: Antara Kyai dan Politisi. C.V. Mayasari, Solo. Akarhanaf (Abdul Karim Hasjim), 1949, Kiai Hasjim Asj'ari: Bapak Ummat Islam Indonesia, 1871-1947, N.p. Jombang. Alfian, 1970,'Sekitar Lahirnja "Nahdlatul Ulama"', Unpublished paper presented at Seminar Sejarah Nasional II, Yogyakarta, 26-29 August. Ali Haidar, 1994, Nahdatul Ulama dan Islam di Indonesia. Pendekatan Fikih dalam Politik, Gramedia, Jakarta. Amak Fadhali (comp.), 1969, Partai NU dengan Aqidah dan Perkembangannja. Tohaputra, Semarang. Anam, Choirul, 1985, Pertumbuhan dan Perkembangan Nahdlatul Ulama, Jatayu Sala, Solo. -- 1990, Gerakan Langkah Pemuda Ansor. Sebuah Percikan Sejarah Kelahiran, Majalah Nahdlatul Ulama AULA, Surabaya. -- (ed.) 1()94, KHR As'ad Syamsul Arifin. Riwayat Hidup dan Perjuangannya, Sahabat Ilmu, Surabaya. Anderson, Benedict R. O'G. 1977, 'Religion and Politics in Indonesia Since Independence', in B. R. O'G. Anderson, M. Nakamura and M. Slamet (eds), Religion and Social Ethos in Indonesia, Centre of Southeast Asian Studies, Monash University, Clayton, pp.21-32. Aziz Masyhuri, Abd, 1983, Al Maghfur lah KHM Bishri Syansuri. Cira-Cita dan Pengabdiannya, Al Ikhlas, Surabaya. Barton, Greg, 1994, 'The Impact of Neo-Modernism on Indonesian Islamic Thought: The Emergence of a New Pluralism', in D. Bourchier and J. Legge (eds), Democracy in Indonesia, 1950s and 1990s, Centre of Southeast Asian Studies, Monash University, Clayton, pp.143-50. Chalid Mawardi, 1967, Practica Politika Nahdlatul Ulama. Mendajung Ditengah Gelombang, Jajasan Pendidikan Pratica, Jakarta and Surabaya. Dawam Rahardjo, M., 1975,'The Kyai, the Pesantren and the Village: A Preliminary Sketch', Prisma, vol.l, no.l, pp.8095.

-- 1974, (ed.), Pesantren dan Pembaruan, LP3ES, Jakarta. -- 1985, (ed.), Pergulatan Dunia Pesantren, LP3ES, Jakarta. Dharwis, Ellyasa K. H. (ed.), 1994, Gus Dur, NU dan Masyarakat Sipil, LKiS, Yogyakarta. Dhofier, Zamakhsyari, 1980, 'Kinship and Marriage Among the Javanese Kyai' Indonesia, no.29, pp.47-58. -- 1982, Tradisi Pesantren: Studi Tentang Pandangan Hidup Kyai, LP3ES, Jakarta. 1984, Wahid Hasyim: Rantai Penghubung Peradaban Pesantren dengan Peradaban Indonesia Moderen', Prisma, no.8, pp.73-81. Fealy, Greg, 1994, "'Rowing in a Typhoon": Nahdlatul Ulama and the Decline of Parliamentary Democracy', in D. Bourchier and J. Legge (eds), Democracy in Indonesia, 1950s and 1990s, Centre Southeast Asian Studies, Monash University, Clayton, pp.88-98. Feillard, Andree, 1993, 'Traditionalist Islam and the State in Indonesia: Flexibility, Legitimacy and Renewal', paper presented to the Conference on Islam and Social Construction of Identities: Comparative Perspectives on Southeast Asian Muslims, University of Hawaii, 4-6 August. -- 1995, Islam et armee dan l'Indonesie Contemporaine, L'Harmattan, Paris. Gaffar Karim, A. 1995, Metamorfosis: NU dan Politisasi Islam Indonesia, LKiS, Yogyakarta. Geertz, Clifford, 1958,'The Javanese Kijaji: The Changing Role of a Cultural Broker', Comparitive Studies in Society and History, vo1.2, no.2, pp.228-49. -- 1970, The Religion of Java, University of Chicago Press, Chicago, part two. Hamzah, Imron, and Choirul Anam, 1989, Sebuah Dialog Mencari Kejelasan: Gus Dur Diadili Kiai-Kiai, Jawa Pos, Surabaya. Haris, Syamsuddin, 1990, 'Nahdlatul Ulama and Politics: A Search for Identity', Indonesian Quarterly, vol.18, no.3, pp.29-42. Hasyim Asy'ari, 1969, Qonun Asasi Nahdlatul 'Ulama, Menara,

Kudus. -- 1975, Taburan Permata Yang Indah: Membahas Sembilan Belas Mas'alah, Menara, Kudus. Idham Chalid, 1965, Islam dan Demokrasi Terpimpin, Api Islam, Jakarta. ---- 1966, Mendajung dalam Taufan, Endang & Api Islam, Jakarta. Jones, Sidney, 1984, 'The Contraction and Expansion of the "Umat" and the Role of Nahdatul Ulama in Indonesia', Indonesia, no.80, October, pp.1-20. Kacung Marijan, 1991, 'Respons NU Terhadap Pembangunan Politik Orde Baru', Jurnal Ilmu Politik, no.9, pp.41-55. -- 1992, Quo Vadis NU: Setelah Kembali ke Khittah 1926, Penerbit Erlangga, Jakarta. Machfoedz Shiddieq [nd.1930s], Debat Tentang Idjtihad dan Taqlid, H.B.N.O., Surabaya. Mahrus Irsyam, 1984, Ulama dan Partai Politik: Upaya Mengatasi Krisis, Yayasan Perkhidmatan, Jakarta. Maksoem Machfoedz, 1983, Kebangkitan Ulama dan Bangkitnya Ulama, Yayasan Kesatuan Ummat, Surabaya. Masbuchin Mohammad and Sufjan Cholil, 1967, Nahdlatul 'Ulama di Tengah-tengah Rakjat dan Bangsa Indonesia, Daya Bhakti, Kutoardjo. Masduki Baidlawi and Saifullah Ma'shum, 1991, Kembali ke Pesantren (Kenangan 70 Tahun K.H. Achmad Sjaichu), Yayasan Islam al Hamidiyah, Jakarta. Muchith Muzadi, 1994, NU dan Fiqih Konstekstual, LKPSM, Yogyakarta. Mudatsir, Arief, 1983, 'Subchan ZE: Buku Menarik yang Belum Selesai', Prisma, no. 10, October, pp.59-72. -- 1985, 'Dari Situbondo Menuju NU Baru: Sebuah Catatan Awal', Prisma, vo1.13, nomor ekstra, pp.130-42 (English translation in Prisma--the Indonesian Indicator, no.35, 1985, pp.161-77). -- 1992,'Subchan Z.E. dalam Konstelasi Politik Pasca 1965', Prisma, Edisi Khusus 20 Tahun, pp.200-16.

Nahdlatul Ulama (Pengurus Besar NU), 1962, Buku KenangKenangan Mu'tamar ke-XXII Partai Nahdlatul Ulama, 1318 Desember 1959 di Djakarta, Yamunu, Jakarta. -- 1979, Keputusan Muktamar N.U. ke XXVI tanggal 10-16 Rajab 1399 H/5-11 Juni 1979 M di Semarang tentang Program Dasar Pengembangan Nahdlatul Ulama 5 Tahun, PBNU, Jakarta. -- 1985a, Islam, Pancasila dan Ukhuwah Islamiyah: Wawancara dengan Rois Aam PBNU, KH. Achmad Siddiq, Lajnah Ta'lif wan Nasyr PBNU, Jakarta. -- 1985b, Hasil Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama ke 27 Situbondo. Nahdlatul Ulama Kembali ke Khittah 1926, Sumber Barokah, Semarang. -- 1988, Keputusan Munas Alim Ulama Nahdlatul Ulama dan Konbes NU di Cilacap, Sumber Barokah, Semarang. -- 1989, Nahdlatul Ulama, 1984-1989: Kliping Berita dan Tulisan, Lajnah Ta'lif dan Nasyr PBNU and Lakpesdam, Jakarta. -- 1990, Hasil-Hasil Muktamar Nahdlatul Ulama ke-28 di Pondok Pesantren Al-Munawwir, Krapyak, Yogyakarta, PBNU, Jakarta. -- 1992, Munas Alim Ulama dan Konbes Nahdlatul Ulama di Bandarlampung, Sumber Barokah, Semarang. Noeh, Zaini Ahmad 1985,'Waliyul Amri Dlaruri Bissyaukah: Di Antara Fakta Historis dan Politik', Panji Masyarakat, vo1.26, no.456, pp.63-5. Noer, Deliar, 1973, The Modernist Muslim Movement ii? Indonesia. 1900-1942, Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur. -- 1987, Partai Islam di Pentas Nasional, Grafiti Pers, Jakarta. Ramage, Douglas E., 1995, Politics in Indonesia. Democracy, Islam and the Ideology of Tolerance, Routledge, Singapore, chapters two and three. Sahal Mahfudh, M. A. 1994, Nuansa Fiqih Sosial, LKiS, Yogyakarta. Saifuddin Zuhri, 1972, Abdul Wahab Chasbullah Bapak dan Pendiri 'Nahdlatul Ulama, Yamunu, Jakarta. -- 1974, Guruku. Orang-orang dari Pesantren, Al Ma'arif, Bandung. 1979, Sejarah Kebangkitan Islam dan Perkembangannya

di Indonesia, Al Ma'arif, Bandung. -- 1981, Kaleidoskop Politik di Indonesia (3 volumes), Gunung Agung, Jakarta. -- 1987, Berangkat Dari Pesantren, Gunung Agung, Jakarta,. Saifullah Ma'shum (ed.), 1994, Menapak Jejak Mengenal Watak: Sekilas Biografi 26 Tokoh Nahdlatul Ulama, Yayasan Saifuddin Zuhri, Jakarta. Salam, Solichin, 1963, K. H. Hasjim Asj'ari. Ulama Besar Indonesia, Djaja Murni, Jakarta. Siddiq, Achmad, 1969, Pedoman Berfikir Nahdlatul Ulama (Fikrah Nahdliyah), Cabang PMII Djember, Jember. -- 1980, Khitthah Nahdliyah, Percetakan Pesatuan, Bangil. 1992, Pemikiran KH Achmad Siddiq, Yayasan Majalah Aula, Surabaya. Sitompol, Einar Martahan, 1989, NU dan Pancasila. Sejarah dan Peranan NU dalam Perjuangan Umat Islam dalam Contributors Greg Barton is a lecturer in Religious and Asian Studies at Deakin University. I-Iis 1995 PhD dissertation, entitled 'The Emergence of Neo-Modernism; a Progressive Liberal Movement of Islamic Thought in Indonesia: A Testual Study Examining the Writings of Nurcholish Madjid, qjohan Effendi, Ahmad Wahib and Abdurrahman Wahid, 1968-1980', will be published in Indonesian by Yayasan Paratnadina, Jakarta, in 1996. Greg Fealy is currently completing a doctoral dissertation on the political history of Nahdlatul Ulama, 1952-1968, in the History Department, Monash University. His publications include The Relecr.re c?flndonesicr :s Political Prisoners Domestic Versus Foreign Policy, lY75-197Y (Centre of Southeast Asian Studies, Monash University, Clayton, 19()5). Andree Feillard lived in Indonesia for seventeen years, during which time she worked as a journalist for Agence France Presse and Asiaweek. Upon returning to France, she undertook post-graduate studies at the Ecole des Hautes en Sciences Sociales, graduating in 1993. Her dissertation examined the relationship between Nahdlatul Ulama and the state, 1965-1993. She is the author of Islum ct arnlc'e dans I'/ndonc'sie contemporaine (Islam and the army in contemporary

Indonesia), (L'Harmattan, Paris, 1995), and is currently a researcher at Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique (CNRS) in Paris Mitsuo Nakamura is Professor of Anthropology at Chiba University, Japan. He has written extensively on Indonesian Islam, including The Cirsccnt Over the Banyan Tree. A Sfudy of the Muhammcmiyah Movement in a Central Javanese Town (Gadjah Mada University Press. Yogyakarta, 1983), based on his Cornell PhD thesis. Douglas E. Ramage is a reseaaarch fellow at the East-West Center, Hawaii. A former Fulbright Scholar in Indonesia, he previously held appointments at the Institute of Southeast Asian Studies in Singapore and the University of Hawaii. He is the author of Politics in Indonesia: Democracy, Islam and the Ideology of Tolerance (Routledge, London, 1995). Martin van Bruinessen is a soicial anthropologist, who spent almost a decade in Indonesia teaching and doint research on various aspects of Indonesian Islam. His publication include NU, Tradisi, Relasi-Relasi Kuasa, dan Pencarian Wacana Baru (NU, Tradition, Relations with Authority, and the Search for a New Discourse), (LKis, Yogyakarta, 1994). He is presently a lecturer in Turkish and Kurdish studies at Utrecht University, The Netherlands. Note: Arabic derived words are spelt according to the conventions of Indonesian spelling where there are loan words in widespread Indonesian useage or are components of traditional Indonesian Islamic phraseology. ABG (Asal Bukan Gus Dur; literally,'Anyone But Gus Dur'): term popular prior to the 1994 Congress referring to those within NU and the government who were opposed to Abdurrahman Wahid continuing as general chairman of NU. ABRI (Angkatan Bersenjata Republik Indonesia): the Indonesian Armed Forces. adat: customary law. ahlul halli wal aqdi (literally,'those who solve and bind'): council or commission of respected leaders with powers to advise or decide on important matters. ahlus sunnah wal-jama'ah (literally, followers of the example

of the Prophet and the [majority of the community): a term generally used by Sunni Muslims to distinguish themselves from the Shia and other minority groups. Indonesian traditionalists, however, often employ the phrase to affirm their own orthodoxy and thereby, differentiate themselves from modernist Muslims. amar ma 'ruf nahi munkar (enjoining good and preventing evil). An obligation for all Muslims and a frequently cited principle in decision-making. Ansor: NU's young men's organisation founded in 1934. asas tunggal (sole foundation): usually used in reference to 11 government program in the mid-1980s to have Pancasila adopted as the sole ideological foundation of all social and religious organisations. bedug: A large drum used in pesantren to signal praver time. Cipete Group: commonly used term in the mid- 1980s referring to the supporters of Idham Chalid. Named after the district Jakarta where he resided. Darul Islam ('Abode of Islam'): technical term referring to a territory containing a majority of Muslims. Also the name an Islamic rebellion in West Java in the late 1940s and 1950s DPR (Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat or People's Representative Council): National parliament. DPR-GR (Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat-Gotong Royong or Gotong Royong parliament). Parliament installed by Sukarno in June 1960. fardlu 'ain: individual or personal obligation. fatwa: decision on Islamic law. fiqh: Islamic jurisprudence. The science dealing with the observance of ritual, religious obligations and social behaviour. A pre-eminant science within traditionalist learning. Forum Demokrasi (Democracy Forum): discussion group of about 45 intellectuals and activists established in March 1991

under the chairmanship of Abdurrahman Wahid. fuqaha: experts in Islamic jurisprudence. Gestapu (Gerakan September Tiga Puluh or Thirtieth of September Movement): Movement which launched the failed coup attempt on 30 September 1965. ghasab: jurisprudential term referring to the illegal appropriation of another person's property or rights. Golkar (Golongan Karya or Functional Groups): The Soeharto government's electoral vehicle. It has dominated every election in the New Order period. hadis, hadith: traditions or reports of the sayings and deeds of the Prophet. haj: pilgrimage to Mecca. halqah: study circle, discussion group. ICMI (Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslimin Indonesia or Association of Indonesian Muslim Intellectuals): government-sponsored association founded in December 1990 under the leadership of Dr B. J. Habibie. ijma: consensus, particularly among religious authorities on matters of Islamic law. ijtihad: reasoning, interpretation. In Islamic jurisprudence, it refers to individual interpretation of the law rather than accepting the consensus of earlier scholars (taklid). Izzul Islam wal Muslimin: the glory of Islam and its adherents. Jakarta Charter: proposed preamble to the 1945 Constitution which called on Muslirns to practise the laws of Islam. jamiah diniyah: religious organisation. jihad (literally, 'to strive'): can be used in a spiritual sense or refer to a physical struggle or Holy war kafir: unbeliever, non-Muslim.

KAMI (Kesatuan Aksi Mahasiswa Indonesia or United Action Indonesian Students): organisation formed following the coup attempt which campaigned for the banning of the PKI and the removal of President Sukarno. KAP-Gestapu (Komando Aksi Pengganyangan Gestapu or Crush Gestapu Action Command): anti-communist organisation up on 4 October 1965 by Subchan and Harry Tjan Silalahi. katib: secretary khaul: a traditional commemoration ceremony for the dead. khittah: charter, strategy, programme. Khittah 1926 (Charter of 1926): reform programme based on restoring the principles set out by NU's founders in 1925. kiai: Islamic teacher, scholar and leader. kitab kuning: literally 'yellow books' (a reference to the colour of the pages). Classical scholarly texts, for the most part. commentaries on the Qur'an and Islamic law. Komite Hijaz (Hijaz Committee): A committee established by traditionalist Muslims in 1926 to organise a delegation to Saudi leader, Abdul-Aziz ibn Saud. KPPNU (Koordinasi Pusat Pengurus NU. Central NU Coordinating Board): a rival board established by Abu Hasan in late December 1994. LMI (Liga Muslimin Indonesia or Indonesian Muslim League): a federation of Islamic organisations founded in August 1952 the main components of which were NU, PSIT and Perti. madrasah: school college. Usualiy referring to an educational institution which has graded classes, a formal syllabus and examination system. mafsadah (literally, 'harm' or 'injury'): in Islamic jurisprudence a concept regarding the avoidance of public harm or disadvantage. Majlis 24 (Council of 24): twenty-four member forum of reform-minded NU leaders, activists and intellectuals

established in mid-l983. Majlis Syuro: Religious Advisory Council of Masyumi. maslahah (literally, benefit or utility). In Islamic jurisprudence, a concept regarding the pursuit of public interest or welfare. Masyumi: modernist-dominated Islamic political party of the late 1940s and 1950s. from which NU seceded in 1952. Banned by Sukarno in 1960. mazhab: school of law. In Sunni islam there are four schools: Hanafi, Maliki, Syafi'i and Hanbali. MIAI (Majlisul Islamil a'laa Indonesia or Indonesian Supreme Islamic Council): federation of Islamic organisations established in 1937. MLB (muktamar luar biasa or extraordinary congress). Modernism: reform movement within Islam that commenced in the late nineteenth century advocating ijtihad, the adoption of modern technology and the purification of the faith from cultural accretions that gave rise to religious syncretism. Muhammadiyah: the largest modernist Islamic organisation in Indonesia. MPR(S) (Majlis Permusyawaratan Rakyat (Sementara) or (Provisional) People's Consultative Assembly). National Congress which elects the president and sets the broad poiguidelines of the state. muktamar (congress): NU National Congress, the highest decision-making authority within the organisation. munas (musyawarah nasional or national consultation): in an NU context, it refers to the national conference of NU ulama held mid-way between the five-yearly congresses. Muslimat NU: NU's women's organisation founded in 1946. musyawarah: consultation Nahdlatul Tujar (Revival of the Traders): short-lived trading cooperative founded by Wahab Chasbullah and Hasjim Asj'ari in 1918.

Nahdlatul Ulama (Revival of the Religious Scholars): traditionalist Islamic organisation founded in 1926. Nahdlatul Wathan (Revival of the Homeland): an Islamic college founded by Wahab Chasbullah and Mas Mansur in Surabaya in 1916. Later developed into a network of colleges across Java. Nasakom (Nasionalis-Agama-Komunis or Nationalist-Religious and Communists). Sukarno's policy to unite the three mail streams of national politics. Pancasila: the five principles of the Indonesian state ideology They are belief in God, humanitarianism, nationalism, democracy, and socialjustice. PBNU (Pengurus Besar Nahdlatul Ulama): Central NU board which comprises the Syuriah and Tanfidziah. PDI (Partai Demokrasi Indonesia or Indonesian Democratic Party): amalgamation of nationalist and Christian parties. pembaruan: reform, renewal. pencak silat: traditional martial arts. Perti (Persatuan Tarbiyah Islam): a small traditionalist party based in West Sumatra. pesantren: (literally 'place of the santri or Muslim students'). Traditional Islamic schools under the leadership of a kiai. PKI (Partai Komunis Indonesia or Indonesian Communist Party). PMII (Pergerakan Mahasiswa Islam Indonesia or Indonesian Muslim Students Movement): NU's tertiary students' organisation formed in 1960. PMPI (Pemuda Mahasiswa dan Pelajar Islam): association of Islamic youth and student organisations active in the late 1960s. PNI (Partai Nasionalis Indonesia or Indonesian Nationalist Party): the main nationalist party during the Sukarno era.

PPP (Partai Persatuan Pembangunan or United Development Party): Islamic party formed in 1973 by the forced amalgamation of NU, MI, Perti and PSII. PRRI (Pemeritah Revolusioner Republik Indonesia or Revolutionary Government of the Republic of Indonesia). Regional government established in West Sumatra in 1957. PSI (Partai Sosialis indonesia or Indonesian Socialist Party. PSII (Partai Serikat Islam Indonesia or Indonesian Islamic Party). qawai'd al-fiqh: the principles or rules of Islamic jurisprudence. rais am: chairman of Central Syuriah; effectively presidentgeneral of NU. Rapat Akbar (Mass Rally). the term used for NU's 66th anniversary celebration on 1 March 1992, held at Senayan, Jakarta. santri: student at a traditional Islamic school; devout Muslim Shumubu: National Religious Affairs Office under the Japanese administration. SI (Sarekat Islam or Islamic Association): the first mass Islamic organisation in the Netherlands Indies. Established in 1912 Situbondo Group: reform group within NU during the early to mid-1980s under the leadership of KH As'ad Syamsul Arifin Named after the location of his pesantren. suksesi ('succession'): popular term during the late 1980s and early 1990s referring to the Presidential succession and the issue of political transition. sunnah precedents set by the Prophet Muhammad for believers to follow as recorded in the Qur'an and hadis. syari'ah: Islamic law. syekh haj: hajj agent. Syuriah: Supreme Religious Council of NU, usually comprising

ulama syu'un ijtima'iyyah: 'matters of` social concern'. tahlilan: recitation of the creed la ilaha illa'allah (there is no god but Allah). Tanfidziah: Executive board of NU. taqlid, taklid: adherence to the teachings and prescriptions of Sunni law schools and ulama. tarekat: Islamic mystical orders. tasawuf, tasawwuf: Islamic mysticism. Taswirul Afkar (Constellation of Thoughts): discussion group formed in 1918 by Wahab Chasbullah. tawassuth: central position or middle path; moderation. Tim Tujuh (Team of Seven): committee established in 1983 to formulate detailed recommendations on the restoration of the khittah. Traditionalist: Muslims who adhere to the teachings of one of the four Sunni schools of law (mazhab) and are also inclined towards syncretic devotional practices. ulama: religious scholar. ukhuwwah islamiyah: Islamic brotherhood. Umat (community, people, nation) Most often used to refer to the community of Muslims. usul al-fiqh: the 'roots or sources' of Islamic jurisprudence. wali: protege of God, saint, holy man. Waliyul amri dlaruri bissyaukah (Interim holder of full power): litle bcstowed on President Sukarno at the 1954 national ulama conference zakat: obligatory alms payments. One of the five pillars of Islam.